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 Indonesia 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 rhodes 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 the Fania All-Stars to the grime 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Marvin Gaye,
Alton Ellis,
Mantronix,
Niagra,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ten City,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Trojans,
The Moleskins,
Infiniti,
E-Dancer,
The Offenders,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Alison Limerick,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soft Machine,
Bang On A Can,
Amazonics,
Nation of Ulysses,
Arcadia,
Gabor Szabo,
Ultimate Spinach,
48th St. Collective,
The Cramps,
The Last Poets,
John Holt,
Brand Nubian,
Jimmy McGriff,
Maleditus Sound,
The Smoke,
Harry Pussy,
Eurythmics,
Duran Duran,
Arthur Verocai,
Khruangbin,
Saccharine Trust,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Josef K,
Davy DMX,
Boz Scaggs,
Peter and Kerry,
Ponytail,
The Barracudas,
Yellowson,
The Real Kids,
A Certain Ratio,
Fugazi,
Inner City,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dead C,
David McCallum,
Quando Quango,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Royal Trux,
Scan 7,
The Buckinghams,
Mark Hollis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Basic Channel,
Scientists,
Ice-T,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.