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 United States and from Salvador.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 Girls At Our Best! to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eden Ahbez,
Oneida,
Severed Heads,
Pagans,
Arab on Radar,
The Slits,
Chrome,
Ten City,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Stooges,
Blossom Toes,
The Happenings,
Flash Fearless,
Fluxion,
Faraquet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Fuzztones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Siglo XX,
Godley & Creme,
The Gun Club,
Gang Starr,
Eddi Front,
The Walker Brothers,
Y Pants,
D'Angelo,
Joey Negro,
Pantytec,
The Index,
Bobby Byrd,
David Bowie,
Wolf Eyes,
The Barracudas,
Connie Case,
The Saints,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Kinks,
Basic Channel,
Donald Byrd,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Gap Band,
Mark Hollis,
The Seeds,
Rhythm & Sound,
Scientists,
Half Japanese,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Blues Magoos,
Zapp,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Porter Ricks,
The Mummies,
Tears for Fears,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ornette Coleman,
Dead Boys,
Agent Orange,
Toni Rubio,
Eli Mardock,
Franke,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.