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 Equatorial Guinea 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Public Enemy to the dance 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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
The Angels of Light,
Wolf Eyes,
Danielle Patucci,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sonic Youth,
Excepter,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Camberwell Now,
Bauhaus,
Connie Case,
Funkadelic,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ronnie Foster,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Selecter,
Neil Young,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
DNA,
Moebius,
Hardrive,
Sex Pistols,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rekid,
Nick Fraelich,
Thee Headcoats,
the Slits,
Letta Mbulu,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Durutti Column,
Ohio Players,
Faraquet,
Arab on Radar,
Roxette,
Rhythm & Sound,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Von Mondo,
The Count Five,
Chris & Cosey,
June Days,
Sparks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rakim,
New Order,
Massinfluence,
Gregory Isaacs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ten City,
Fat Boys,
Sixth Finger,
Model 500,
Q and Not U,
Rosa Yemen,
Ornette Coleman,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Knickerbockers,
Neu!,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Sonics,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blossom Toes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.