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 Taiwan and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Motorama to the grunge 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Essential Logic,
Wasted Youth,
Slave,
Dorothy Ashby,
Johnny Osbourne,
Urselle,
Stetsasonic,
Arab on Radar,
Audionom,
Quadrant,
Skaos,
Y Pants,
The Cowsills,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fear,
John Foxx,
Lakeside,
Dark Day,
Nation of Ulysses,
Spoonie Gee,
Mandrill,
Warren Ellis,
Sandy B,
Joyce Sims,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Electric Prunes,
The Count Five,
Monolake,
Mars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Andrew Hill,
Tom Boy,
Connie Case,
The Kinks,
Chrome,
The Invisible,
The Saints,
Tommy Roe,
Sister Nancy,
R.M.O.,
Colin Newman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Von Mondo,
The Red Krayola,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Oblivians,
Sonic Youth,
Motorama,
The Divine Comedy,
Crooked Eye,
The Neon Judgement,
Traffic Nightmare,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Funkadelic,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.