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 Micronesia and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rakim to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Kaleidoscope,
Bob Dylan,
Tommy Roe,
Essential Logic,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
James White and The Blacks,
Kenny Larkin,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mandrill,
Neu!,
Suicide,
Boz Scaggs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Electric Prunes,
The Dirtbombs,
The Associates,
Terry Callier,
Dual Sessions,
Barry Ungar,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pussy Galore,
The Mojo Men,
Sarah Menescal,
a-ha,
Steve Hackett,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Alarm Clocks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Wake,
Buzzcocks,
David Bowie,
The Five Americans,
Wolf Eyes,
Excepter,
Eddi Front,
Josef K,
the Bar-Kays,
Man Parrish,
Delon & Dalcan,
Janne Schatter,
Marine Girls,
Pere Ubu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joey Negro,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sex Pistols,
Harry Pussy,
Barbara Tucker,
Bad Manners,
Wally Richardson,
Flash Fearless,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fuzztones,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marmalade,
In Retrospect,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Gap Band,
Soul II Soul,
Don Cherry,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.