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 Suriname and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Anakelly to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Prince Buster,
Boogie Down Productions,
Archie Shepp,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Deepchord,
Jerry's Kids,
Ornette Coleman,
Nils Olav,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ken Boothe,
Ten City,
Main Source,
Pantaleimon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Negative Approach,
Kerri Chandler,
The Toasters,
Donald Byrd,
Don Cherry,
Brick,
Lindisfarne,
T. Rex,
James White and The Blacks,
The Saints,
Icehouse,
Skarface,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Erasure,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Warren Ellis,
David McCallum,
The Mojo Men,
Derrick May,
Roxy Music,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultravox,
Royal Trux,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sugar Minott,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Wire,
Davy DMX,
Scion,
Black Bananas,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
DJ Sneak,
Peter & Gordon,
LL Cool J,
Janne Schatter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Neon Judgement,
The Names,
Stetsasonic,
The Monochrome Set,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roy Ayers,
New Order,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Alison Limerick,
Bang On A Can,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.