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 Maldives and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Kerrie Biddell to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
The Fall,
Mad Mike,
Liliput,
The Martian,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Icehouse,
Essential Logic,
the Sonics,
Black Sheep,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Starr,
The Golliwogs,
The Gun Club,
London Community Gospel Choir,
48th St. Collective,
Derrick May,
Urselle,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Angels of Light,
The Flesh Eaters,
Circle Jerks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeff Mills,
Beasts of Bourbon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Don Cherry,
The Sound,
Cameo,
The Red Krayola,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fire Engines,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dave Gahan,
Black Flag,
Khruangbin,
Dual Sessions,
The Slits,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ice-T,
Au Pairs,
The Selecter,
The Knickerbockers,
Bill Wells,
Echospace,
Althea and Donna,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Supertramp,
Iggy Pop,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marine Girls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Faust,
Darondo,
Fear,
Deadbeat,
Magma,
Gabor Szabo,
The Dead C,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.