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 Angola and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the rap 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Byron Stingily,
Icehouse,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Trojans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Franke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Average White Band,
DJ Style,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Coltrane,
Minnie Riperton,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dennis Brown,
Mad Mike,
Chris & Cosey,
Lungfish,
Rod Modell,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Bananas,
Gang Gang Dance,
Barbara Tucker,
Fear,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobby Byrd,
Niagra,
Johnny Clarke,
Trumans Water,
Mantronix,
Liliput,
Altered Images,
Swans,
Television,
Y Pants,
T. Rex,
Babytalk,
The Black Dice,
Blossom Toes,
Outsiders,
Ronan,
Ice-T,
the Human League,
Make Up,
Hoover,
Terry Callier,
Sällskapet,
Talk Talk,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Model 500,
Max Romeo,
New Age Steppers,
Slick Rick,
Ultimate Spinach,
Simply Red,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.