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 Nauru and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bootsy Collins to the grunge 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Connie Case,
Audionom,
Angry Samoans,
Gichy Dan,
Stetsasonic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ronnie Foster,
The Buckinghams,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Leaves,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
T. Rex,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eric Dolphy,
Josef K,
Avey Tare,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
OOIOO,
Yusef Lateef,
Faraquet,
Franke,
John Coltrane,
Roy Ayers,
Surgeon,
Eden Ahbez,
Jacob Miller,
Negative Approach,
Depeche Mode,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
ABBA,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Echospace,
Moebius,
Radio Birdman,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mad Mike,
Howard Jones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Arab on Radar,
The Monks,
Don Cherry,
Brass Construction,
Jacques Brel,
Donny Hathaway,
Funkadelic,
Morten Harket,
David Axelrod,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joe Smooth,
Inner City,
Kenny Larkin,
Khruangbin,
The Associates,
Barry Ungar,
Pierre Henry,
The Residents,
Aural Exciters,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.