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 Seychelles and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 K-Klass to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
The Kinks,
John Cale,
The Star Department,
Albert Ayler,
John Holt,
Sun City Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Unwound,
Rites of Spring,
June of 44,
The Buckinghams,
Au Pairs,
Saccharine Trust,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Saints,
The Remains,
Yaz,
Inner City,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dual Sessions,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sister Nancy,
Sixth Finger,
Sandy B,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soulsonic Force,
Lee Hazlewood,
Technova,
Yazoo,
Television,
Donald Byrd,
Con Funk Shun,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eric Copeland,
Magazine,
Connie Case,
Livin' Joy,
Mr. Review,
The Pretty Things,
Josef K,
Aswad,
Anakelly,
The Velvet Underground,
ABC,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Monks,
Terry Callier,
Electric Prunes,
L. Decosne,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brand Nubian,
Circle Jerks,
DJ Style,
Half Japanese,
Bang On A Can,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fela Kuti,
Model 500,
The Sound,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.