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 Slovakia 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba 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 The Knickerbockers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Symarip,
Bobby Byrd,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ultravox,
Boz Scaggs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Stiv Bators,
Joyce Sims,
Eve St. Jones,
Blancmange,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eric B and Rakim,
Theoretical Girls,
One Last Wish,
The Invisible,
Max Romeo,
Pantytec,
Rekid,
Brass Construction,
Derrick Morgan,
T.S.O.L.,
Todd Terry,
T. Rex,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Standells,
the Sonics,
the Soft Cell,
Camouflage,
The Angels of Light,
Basic Channel,
Make Up,
Electric Prunes,
Mark Hollis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jesper Dahlback,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Velvet Underground,
The Neon Judgement,
Rufus Thomas,
Silicon Teens,
Funkadelic,
Camberwell Now,
Lalann,
Con Funk Shun,
The Pretty Things,
the Bar-Kays,
The Techniques,
Cymande,
Surgeon,
Shoche,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Gories,
The Happenings,
Mars,
Ultimate Spinach,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Popol Vuh,
The Saints,
Adolescents,
Aswad,
Patti Smith,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.