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 Nepal and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the organ 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 Frankie Knuckles to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Mantronix,
Gil Scott Heron,
Accadde A,
Swell Maps,
The Last Poets,
Roxy Music,
Y Pants,
Royal Trux,
Stiv Bators,
Urselle,
Wire,
Sun Ra,
Moss Icon,
Minutemen,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eric Dolphy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arab on Radar,
Alphaville,
Zapp,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Flipper,
Anakelly,
Visage,
Second Layer,
Hot Snakes,
DJ Sneak,
Ralphi Rosario,
Inner City,
Man Parrish,
The Black Dice,
Delta 5,
Slave,
The Residents,
Todd Terry,
Japan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Neu!,
kango's stein massive,
Porter Ricks,
Grauzone,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nik Kershaw,
The Dirtbombs,
The Moleskins,
Fatback Band,
The Gladiators,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tomorrow,
Outsiders,
Siglo XX,
T.S.O.L.,
Pussy Galore,
Peter and Kerry,
New York Dolls,
Oblivians,
Eve St. Jones,
Ronnie Foster,
Derrick Morgan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crash Course in Science,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.