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 Zimbabwe and from Glasgow.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Goldenarms to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Slick Rick,
John Holt,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harmonia,
Excepter,
Interpol,
Matthew Bourne,
The Moody Blues,
Pulsallama,
Quadrant,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Dead C,
Loose Ends,
Parry Music,
Graham Central Station,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Litter,
Oneida,
Whodini,
Clear Light,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Siglo XX,
Jawbox,
Barrington Levy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Heaven 17,
Gang Green,
Blake Baxter,
a-ha,
Ituana,
Symarip,
Henry Cow,
Camberwell Now,
FM Einheit,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Vainqueur,
Malaria!,
Jeff Mills,
Agent Orange,
Von Mondo,
Joyce Sims,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rakim,
EPMD,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Man Parrish,
Sällskapet,
Bill Near,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mandrill,
The Real Kids,
Y Pants,
Darondo,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
Alison Limerick,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.