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 Bahrain and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Public Enemy to the jazz 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Au Pairs,
Moby Grape,
Soul Sonic Force,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Funky Four + One,
Susan Cadogan,
Michelle Simonal,
KRS-One,
Thee Headcoats,
Blossom Toes,
Hardrive,
Derrick Morgan,
Grauzone,
Cluster,
The Last Poets,
Todd Terry,
AZ,
Deepchord,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wally Richardson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ornette Coleman,
Rapeman,
Pantaleimon,
Tommy Roe,
The J.B.'s,
Angry Samoans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Drexciya,
Audionom,
The Trojans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Con Funk Shun,
Graham Central Station,
Sun Ra,
Ultra Naté,
The Human League,
Blake Baxter,
a-ha,
Oblivians,
Vainqueur,
Youth Brigade,
Circle Jerks,
Dual Sessions,
Jawbox,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Skriet,
The Electric Prunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nils Olav,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chrome,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Christie,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.