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 Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet 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 Public Enemy to the dance 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters 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 Sound,
Slick Rick,
Jeff Mills,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Siglo XX,
Royal Trux,
Icehouse,
The Kinks,
Maleditus Sound,
Gang Starr,
Babytalk,
The Blackbyrds,
Ken Boothe,
Massinfluence,
Mary Jane Girls,
8 Eyed Spy,
Blancmange,
Saccharine Trust,
the Normal,
The Trojans,
Jawbox,
Blossom Toes,
Young Marble Giants,
Tomorrow,
Idris Muhammad,
Crash Course in Science,
Amon Düül,
The Alarm Clocks,
Carl Craig,
Dennis Brown,
Urselle,
Alton Ellis,
The New Christs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Bananas,
Camberwell Now,
Supertramp,
cv313,
Schoolly D,
The Gun Club,
The Monochrome Set,
Bauhaus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lakeside,
The Mojo Men,
Camouflage,
H. Thieme,
Wally Richardson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gang of Four,
Joyce Sims,
Brick,
Brass Construction,
Lungfish,
New Age Steppers,
Interpol,
Eric B and Rakim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Silicon Teens,
Infiniti,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.