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 Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Intrusion to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 American Breed,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nick Fraelich,
The Grass Roots,
The Birthday Party,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bootsy Collins,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
These Immortal Souls,
Q and Not U,
Judy Mowatt,
The Blackbyrds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Technova,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Doors,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lucky Dragons,
Simply Red,
Tommy Roe,
The Sound,
the Sonics,
X-Ray Spex,
Ken Boothe,
Crispy Ambulance,
Newcleus,
Black Pus,
Sun City Girls,
D'Angelo,
Essential Logic,
Yellowson,
Hardrive,
The Fire Engines,
Supertramp,
Dawn Penn,
Icehouse,
the Germs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Porter Ricks,
The Mummies,
Subhumans,
Lalann,
Amon Düül II,
Bush Tetras,
Anakelly,
Talk Talk,
Patti Smith,
Howard Jones,
Delon & Dalcan,
Angry Samoans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pantaleimon,
The Monks,
The Raincoats,
Slick Rick,
Outsiders,
Reuben Wilson,
Suicide,
Gang Starr,
Davy DMX,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.