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 Nigeria and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dorothy Ashby to the grime 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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Fire Engines,
The Gladiators,
Skriet,
Rosa Yemen,
Avey Tare,
Eddi Front,
Todd Rundgren,
Eli Mardock,
Excepter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rekid,
EPMD,
Fatback Band,
Max Romeo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ice-T,
Ronan,
The Durutti Column,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Zeros,
Barry Ungar,
June of 44,
The Gun Club,
Technova,
Terrestrial Tones,
Groovy Waters,
Rakim,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quadrant,
Marine Girls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Youth Brigade,
These Immortal Souls,
Monolake,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Swans,
Carl Craig,
Bluetip,
Yellowson,
Hoover,
Jimmy McGriff,
a-ha,
Maleditus Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
Tubeway Army,
Ituana,
Todd Terry,
The Wake,
James White and The Blacks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Boredoms,
Stiv Bators,
Janne Schatter,
Sparks,
The Blackbyrds,
Bobbi Humphrey,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.