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 Turkey and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Animal Collective to the grunge 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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Cal Tjader,
Malaria!,
Amazonics,
Vladislav Delay,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
New York Dolls,
The Fugs,
Y Pants,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cymande,
Rufus Thomas,
The Slackers,
Monks,
Steve Hackett,
Youth Brigade,
Aswad,
the Fania All-Stars,
Suburban Knight,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sonics,
Donny Hathaway,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Skarface,
Rotary Connection,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jacob Miller,
Los Fastidios,
Lightning Bolt,
The Searchers,
Audionom,
Circle Jerks,
Neil Young,
Johnny Clarke,
Soft Machine,
Panda Bear,
Easy Going,
Max Romeo,
A Certain Ratio,
Kas Product,
Rapeman,
Wally Richardson,
Sandy B,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cowsills,
Jerry's Kids,
Camberwell Now,
Crooked Eye,
Eurythmics,
Warren Ellis,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lalann,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barrington Levy,
The Beau Brummels,
10cc,
The Martian,
Bluetip,
Rakim,
Donald Byrd,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.