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 Croatia and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar 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 the Soft Cell to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Livin' Joy,
The Gap Band,
The Evens,
Bluetip,
Siglo XX,
Rakim,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Black Moon,
Fluxion,
The Happenings,
Derrick May,
Outsiders,
The Leaves,
Nation of Ulysses,
Excepter,
Sällskapet,
Amon Düül II,
Ken Boothe,
Cluster,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barry Ungar,
Swans,
Bob Dylan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Reagan Youth,
The Vogues,
Big Daddy Kane,
Animal Collective,
Delta 5,
The Velvet Underground,
The Toasters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sugar Minott,
Quadrant,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
These Immortal Souls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Grauzone,
Yellowson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Niagra,
The Blackbyrds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fire Engines,
The Fuzztones,
Pole,
Sight & Sound,
Jerry's Kids,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Loose Ends,
Angry Samoans,
Alphaville,
Echospace,
Soft Cell,
Kaleidoscope,
Byron Stingily,
Spandau Ballet,
Danielle Patucci,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.