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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dawn Penn to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
LL Cool J,
Black Bananas,
Blossom Toes,
Chris & Cosey,
Silicon Teens,
Magma,
The Litter,
Yazoo,
Tim Buckley,
The Martian,
FM Einheit,
H. Thieme,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Panda Bear,
Pere Ubu,
Gang of Four,
Gregory Isaacs,
Peter & Gordon,
Popol Vuh,
Rapeman,
Ronan,
The Offenders,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Liliput,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobby Womack,
Kaleidoscope,
Whodini,
Echospace,
Barbara Tucker,
Janne Schatter,
Terry Callier,
T. Rex,
Schoolly D,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mantronix,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Surgeon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joe Finger,
Inner City,
Peter and Kerry,
Eddi Front,
Reagan Youth,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Associates,
Suicide,
Erasure,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Groovy Waters,
Circle Jerks,
Gang Starr,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jimmy McGriff,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.