Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sweden and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Con Funk Shun to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agitation Free record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Terry Callier,
Ten City,
Los Fastidios,
Hoover,
New Order,
D'Angelo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
June of 44,
Inner City,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Derrick May,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Supertramp,
AZ,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
MDC,
Charles Mingus,
Mary Jane Girls,
Skaos,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Human League,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nils Olav,
Masters at Work,
Arthur Verocai,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Dave Clark Five,
Absolute Body Control,
Pet Shop Boys,
Reagan Youth,
The Leaves,
The Stooges,
Talk Talk,
Lindisfarne,
Brass Construction,
In Retrospect,
Todd Terry,
DJ Style,
K-Klass,
The Raincoats,
Pagans,
Guru Guru,
Rod Modell,
Monolake,
John Holt,
H. Thieme,
Lyres,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mantronix,
The Knickerbockers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Erykah Badu,
Byron Stingily,
The Velvet Underground,
JFA,
The American Breed,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.