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 Brazil 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 linndrum 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Symarip,
The American Breed,
Robert Hood,
Slave,
Gil Scott Heron,
cv313,
Accadde A,
Quantec,
Lebanon Hanover,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Judy Mowatt,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Groovy Waters,
Jimmy McGriff,
Warsaw,
Rapeman,
The Invisible,
Kas Product,
Howard Jones,
the Fania All-Stars,
Funky Four + One,
The Last Poets,
The United States of America,
These Immortal Souls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bluetip,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Seeds,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mars,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Music Machine,
Khruangbin,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pantytec,
Rekid,
Man Parrish,
Spoonie Gee,
kango's stein massive,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Marc Almond,
Mark Hollis,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Buzzcocks,
Joyce Sims,
Bang On A Can,
Tommy Roe,
John Foxx,
Wally Richardson,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Little Man,
X-Ray Spex,
The Saints,
The Stooges,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.