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 Maldives and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 UT to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Fatback Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lungfish,
Minny Pops,
Soul II Soul,
D'Angelo,
Slave,
Motorama,
Nas,
The Raincoats,
Pylon,
the Sonics,
Roxy Music,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rosa Yemen,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Camberwell Now,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
New Age Steppers,
The American Breed,
Chris Corsano,
The Durutti Column,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joyce Sims,
F. McDonald,
Lou Christie,
Yaz,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Selecter,
The Toasters,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare,
E-Dancer,
Fugazi,
The Searchers,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultravox,
Groovy Waters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Outsiders,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Sound,
Tomorrow,
Gil Scott Heron,
Toni Rubio,
Sister Nancy,
DNA,
Hashim,
Amazonics,
Iggy Pop,
R.M.O.,
AZ,
Brothers Johnson,
LL Cool J,
Dennis Brown,
Babytalk,
The Music Machine,
Pussy Galore,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bauhaus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mars,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.