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 Lesotho and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Bizarre Inc. to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Reuben Wilson,
Public Enemy,
Tres Demented,
Isaac Hayes,
Tears for Fears,
Bill Wells,
Lalo Schifrin,
Absolute Body Control,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bobby Byrd,
Carl Craig,
Letta Mbulu,
Accadde A,
The Happenings,
Make Up,
The Cowsills,
The Evens,
Alton Ellis,
Sex Pistols,
In Retrospect,
Cecil Taylor,
Quadrant,
Wally Richardson,
Todd Rundgren,
10cc,
Kevin Saunderson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rod Modell,
a-ha,
Roy Ayers,
Soft Machine,
Funkadelic,
This Heat,
The Last Poets,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bang On A Can,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Womack,
The J.B.'s,
Don Cherry,
Supertramp,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Josef K,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Neil Young,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Arthur Verocai,
Loose Ends,
Grandmaster Flash,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Unwound,
The Angels of Light,
Model 500,
Tubeway Army,
Suburban Knight,
Eddi Front,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.