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 Indonesia and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Susan Cadogan to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Faust,
Outsiders,
Mars,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Animal Collective,
Man Parrish,
Jandek,
PIL,
Matthew Bourne,
Radiopuhelimet,
June of 44,
Ludus,
The Walker Brothers,
Eddi Front,
Marine Girls,
Q65,
Heaven 17,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eve St. Jones,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Schoolly D,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lee Hazlewood,
Warsaw,
Electric Light Orchestra,
X-101,
Negative Approach,
Frankie Knuckles,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fall,
the Swans,
Rakim,
a-ha,
The Modern Lovers,
Aaron Thompson,
Smog,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Barrington Levy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pagans,
Alphaville,
Crash Course in Science,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Malaria!,
Alice Coltrane,
Radio Birdman,
The Durutti Column,
Minor Threat,
David Bowie,
Ten City,
Donny Hathaway,
Whodini,
Idris Muhammad,
Jeff Mills,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fugazi,
Hashim,
Mr. Review,
Ornette Coleman,
D'Angelo,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.