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 Cuba and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe 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 EPMD to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Main Source,
Josef K,
Hoover,
John Lydon,
Subhumans,
Electric Prunes,
Lakeside,
Robert Görl,
Joe Smooth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ituana,
Desert Stars,
Blossom Toes,
Faust,
Slick Rick,
Metal Thangz,
Rites of Spring,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Intrusion,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Barracudas,
The Music Machine,
Lucky Dragons,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gap Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gang Starr,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Wake,
Lindisfarne,
Scientists,
New Order,
Pole,
The Gun Club,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lou Reed,
The Slits,
Barbara Tucker,
Gong,
Crooked Eye,
Camberwell Now,
Fat Boys,
the Germs,
Ronnie Foster,
U.S. Maple,
The Residents,
Judy Mowatt,
Bill Near,
DJ Sneak,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nils Olav,
Pagans,
Soulsonic Force,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.