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 Dominican Republic and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin 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 D'Angelo to the crunk 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Radiohead,
The Barracudas,
Saccharine Trust,
Minor Threat,
A Certain Ratio,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crispian St. Peters,
Anakelly,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Gun Club,
Bootsy Collins,
Urselle,
Sixth Finger,
Ken Boothe,
Pagans,
James White and The Blacks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aloha Tigers,
Television,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Groovy Waters,
Tres Demented,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Erykah Badu,
Tommy Roe,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Excepter,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Byrd,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Khruangbin,
The Fall,
Nik Kershaw,
Technova,
Black Flag,
Scrapy,
Dark Day,
Fluxion,
MDC,
Scientists,
Ten City,
Gichy Dan,
Slave,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Clear Light,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sonic Youth,
Dual Sessions,
Blake Baxter,
Black Moon,
Zapp,
Joey Negro,
Parry Music,
The Monks,
Wasted Youth,
Japan,
The Fugs,
The Names,
The Slackers,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.