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 Mauritius and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Desert Stars to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Zapp,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Christie,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Beau Brummels,
The Last Poets,
Ossler,
Jerry's Kids,
Tomorrow,
Bootsy Collins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
This Heat,
Minor Threat,
H. Thieme,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sonic Youth,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Skatalites,
F. McDonald,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Surgeon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
China Crisis,
John Foxx,
Supertramp,
Unrelated Segments,
Johnny Clarke,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Slits,
Howard Jones,
Sarah Menescal,
Ultra Naté,
Little Man,
Rites of Spring,
Marvin Gaye,
Basic Channel,
Sex Pistols,
Shuggie Otis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Leaves,
The Doors,
The Count Five,
The Blues Magoos,
Mo-Dettes,
Skarface,
Pylon,
Japan,
Vladislav Delay,
Pierre Henry,
Maleditus Sound,
Pagans,
Public Enemy,
Prince Buster,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joe Smooth,
The Moody Blues,
Negative Approach,
Banda Bassotti,
B.T. Express,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.