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 Benin and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
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 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 David Bowie 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 Names to the dance 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Grandmaster Flash,
Negative Approach,
Bobby Byrd,
Fatback Band,
Tomorrow,
The Real Kids,
Shuggie Otis,
The New Christs,
Icehouse,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Section 25,
Fad Gadget,
The Gun Club,
Rotary Connection,
Trumans Water,
The Slackers,
Sight & Sound,
Brass Construction,
Girls At Our Best!,
B.T. Express,
Morten Harket,
Subhumans,
Sam Rivers,
Urselle,
Darondo,
Brothers Johnson,
Hashim,
Skaos,
Excepter,
The Neon Judgement,
The Motions,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Flesh Eaters,
Second Layer,
Donald Byrd,
X-102,
Aaron Thompson,
Intrusion,
Fluxion,
Clear Light,
Patti Smith,
Moebius,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Angry Samoans,
Mo-Dettes,
X-101,
cv313,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gories,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pantytec,
Derrick Morgan,
8 Eyed Spy,
E-Dancer,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Los Fastidios,
Monks,
Saccharine Trust,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.