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 Swaziland and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 Theoretical Girls to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
Todd Terry,
Scratch Acid,
Lakeside,
Robert Wyatt,
Average White Band,
Depeche Mode,
Blancmange,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fugs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cluster,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lower 48,
Mantronix,
Von Mondo,
Aural Exciters,
Hashim,
The Kinks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Neu!,
Blossom Toes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Television,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Laurel Aitken,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Reed,
Camouflage,
Fear,
Faust,
Peter and Kerry,
Massinfluence,
Rakim,
Spoonie Gee,
Ponytail,
Fela Kuti,
The Detroit Cobras,
Skarface,
Little Man,
Sällskapet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sight & Sound,
Deepchord,
Sparks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Chris Corsano,
D'Angelo,
Prince Buster,
Essential Logic,
Index,
Crash Course in Science,
Glambeats Corp.,
Darondo,
Flash Fearless,
Junior Murvin,
The Residents,
Rapeman,
Main Source,
Masters at Work,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.