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 Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb 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 Oblivians to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Mo-Dettes,
Cymande,
Slick Rick,
Terry Callier,
Scrapy,
The Mojo Men,
ABC,
Second Layer,
Charles Mingus,
Newcleus,
Ludus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Half Japanese,
Blancmange,
Marvin Gaye,
Dorothy Ashby,
DNA,
Thee Headcoats,
Carl Craig,
Model 500,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mark Hollis,
Popol Vuh,
Scratch Acid,
David Axelrod,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Black Pus,
Lebanon Hanover,
T.S.O.L.,
Josef K,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ken Boothe,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Outsiders,
Lalo Schifrin,
Flash Fearless,
Freddie Wadling,
Flipper,
The Remains,
H. Thieme,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mad Mike,
The Buckinghams,
China Crisis,
Groovy Waters,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Womack,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Max Romeo,
AZ,
Don Cherry,
Isaac Hayes,
Michelle Simonal,
The Cowsills,
Barrington Levy,
Ossler,
Ronan,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.