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 Marshall Islands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 D'Angelo 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Delta 5,
Marmalade,
DJ Style,
Fatback Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
La Düsseldorf,
Junior Murvin,
Adolescents,
The Motions,
Aswad,
Roxy Music,
Bob Dylan,
Procol Harum,
Kerri Chandler,
Tim Buckley,
The Golliwogs,
Boz Scaggs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eddi Front,
Fad Gadget,
Glenn Branca,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Television,
The Toasters,
The Young Rascals,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobby Byrd,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Wyatt,
Hoover,
Cal Tjader,
Quando Quango,
The Cowsills,
The Raincoats,
Nils Olav,
Los Fastidios,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Electric Prunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pole,
The Buckinghams,
Letta Mbulu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joyce Sims,
One Last Wish,
Vainqueur,
T. Rex,
the Germs,
The Leaves,
Byron Stingily,
Scientists,
Sonny Sharrock,
Public Enemy,
Patti Smith,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jeru the Damaja,
Shoche,
Prince Buster,
Fugazi,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.