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 Cyprus and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Monolake to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sound Behaviour,
Pantytec,
Grauzone,
These Immortal Souls,
Altered Images,
Flash Fearless,
Kenny Larkin,
Porter Ricks,
The Neon Judgement,
Popol Vuh,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Buckinghams,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Quantec,
Rekid,
Joe Finger,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang Starr,
Crash Course in Science,
The J.B.'s,
Juan Atkins,
The Last Poets,
Jeru the Damaja,
Archie Shepp,
Skaos,
Neu!,
The Slackers,
ABC,
The Doors,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lindisfarne,
Andrew Hill,
Tomorrow,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gladiators,
Shuggie Otis,
Minutemen,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Massinfluence,
Lungfish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bluetip,
The Blackbyrds,
T. Rex,
Scan 7,
Mission of Burma,
Soft Machine,
Don Cherry,
Visage,
X-102,
One Last Wish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
John Foxx,
John Coltrane,
Janne Schatter,
Groovy Waters,
Excepter,
10cc,
Can,
Tubeway Army,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.