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 Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Donald Fagen 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 Juan Atkins to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Arthur Verocai,
The Victims,
Half Japanese,
The New Christs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Public Enemy,
Sister Nancy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The American Breed,
Popol Vuh,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eve St. Jones,
Soulsonic Force,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jawbox,
Jacques Brel,
ABC,
The Gap Band,
Lakeside,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Graham Central Station,
Metal Thangz,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Minny Pops,
Delon & Dalcan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roger Hodgson,
Joe Smooth,
Main Source,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Flipper,
Bobby Sherman,
Alice Coltrane,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Smoke,
Qualms,
Franke,
Animal Collective,
Cymande,
Funkadelic,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rhythm & Sound,
Index,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kaleidoscope,
Scientists,
The Red Krayola,
The Gladiators,
Von Mondo,
The Cure,
Quantec,
48th St. Collective,
Derrick Morgan,
Janne Schatter,
Black Moon,
Duran Duran,
Junior Murvin,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.