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 Congo and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Barclay James Harvest to the techno 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Aswad,
Procol Harum,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Thee Headcoats,
Babytalk,
the Normal,
Ultravox,
Skriet,
Popol Vuh,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Hutcherson,
U.S. Maple,
Grauzone,
Tim Buckley,
Desert Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
Piero Umiliani,
Trumans Water,
Liliput,
Joey Negro,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rotary Connection,
The Doobie Brothers,
Little Man,
Sonic Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
Eli Mardock,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Qualms,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
OOIOO,
Ultimate Spinach,
Darondo,
Faraquet,
MDC,
Pere Ubu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
In Retrospect,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wings,
The Dead C,
Magazine,
John Coltrane,
Youth Brigade,
Interpol,
48th St. Collective,
Grandmaster Flash,
Underground Resistance,
Radiopuhelimet,
Neil Young,
Agitation Free,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gang Gang Dance,
Minnie Riperton,
Spandau Ballet,
Reagan Youth,
The Seeds,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Porter Ricks,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.