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 Niger and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Slick Rick to the funk 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster 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?
Idris Muhammad,
Adolescents,
Sparks,
Nas,
Warsaw,
the Soft Cell,
Los Fastidios,
The Durutti Column,
The Beau Brummels,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Flag,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lightning Bolt,
Tears for Fears,
Quantec,
These Immortal Souls,
Soft Cell,
Duran Duran,
Derrick May,
Pagans,
Cluster,
Eric Copeland,
The Doors,
The Gun Club,
U.S. Maple,
Unwound,
Gong,
MC5,
Dead Boys,
David Axelrod,
Ronnie Foster,
Ultravox,
The Invisible,
Swans,
Wolf Eyes,
Oblivians,
Tropical Tobacco,
Symarip,
Bobby Byrd,
Bob Dylan,
Wasted Youth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Brothers Johnson,
The Selecter,
The Wake,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sandy B,
Fear,
Outsiders,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mandrill,
Aaron Thompson,
Stetsasonic,
The Tremeloes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Neu!,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soft Machine,
Pussy Galore,
Bootsy Collins,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.