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 Botswana and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 LL Cool J to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Brothers Johnson,
John Cale,
Minor Threat,
the Bar-Kays,
Brass Construction,
Clear Light,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fortunes,
Absolute Body Control,
Mad Mike,
June Days,
The Invisible,
The Slackers,
Lalann,
ABC,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Agent Orange,
Unrelated Segments,
The Happenings,
Yaz,
DJ Style,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Knickerbockers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Slick Rick,
Schoolly D,
Kayak,
Parry Music,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Essential Logic,
The Young Rascals,
The Dead C,
Average White Band,
Bobby Womack,
John Lydon,
Black Moon,
Stiv Bators,
the Association,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lucky Dragons,
Cymande,
Crooked Eye,
Lou Reed,
Subhumans,
Steve Hackett,
The Raincoats,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Section 25,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Au Pairs,
Minutemen,
Donald Byrd,
Grauzone,
Adolescents,
The Barracudas,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Man Parrish,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.