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 Armenia and from Accra.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 808 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 Minor Threat to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Funky Four + One,
Shoche,
F. McDonald,
Public Image Ltd.,
Arab on Radar,
Robert Wyatt,
Inner City,
Moebius,
The Searchers,
Desert Stars,
Vainqueur,
The Doobie Brothers,
Popol Vuh,
The Buckinghams,
Buzzcocks,
Nico,
Marc Almond,
Khruangbin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Banda Bassotti,
Oneida,
DJ Style,
The Velvet Underground,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobby Womack,
Ponytail,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tears for Fears,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crooked Eye,
Eve St. Jones,
The Birthday Party,
Theoretical Girls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stereo Dub,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Funkadelic,
Basic Channel,
Bob Dylan,
Trumans Water,
Agent Orange,
Minnie Riperton,
Neil Young,
Shuggie Otis,
the Soft Cell,
Flash Fearless,
Skarface,
Crime,
Hoover,
Scientists,
Isaac Hayes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dennis Brown,
Albert Ayler,
Spoonie Gee,
Television,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.