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 Liechtenstein and from Seoul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manila.
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 rhodes 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 New Age Steppers to the disco 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Royal Trux,
Rod Modell,
Hasil Adkins,
Andrew Hill,
Curtis Mayfield,
Blossom Toes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marine Girls,
Jacques Brel,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Five Americans,
Grey Daturas,
Ronnie Foster,
The Gap Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Seeds,
Gang Green,
Lee Hazlewood,
A Flock of Seagulls,
T. Rex,
Erykah Badu,
Unrelated Segments,
Blake Baxter,
Marc Almond,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sarah Menescal,
LL Cool J,
Don Cherry,
Porter Ricks,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jacob Miller,
Michelle Simonal,
Lyres,
The Trojans,
Gregory Isaacs,
Con Funk Shun,
Ash Ra Tempel,
X-101,
Ultravox,
The Blackbyrds,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Doors,
The Smoke,
Fat Boys,
Oblivians,
Interpol,
Gang Gang Dance,
Yellowson,
The Divine Comedy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Smiths,
Eddi Front,
Wire,
In Retrospect,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Terry Callier,
Big Daddy Kane,
Byron Stingily,
Black Sheep,
Vladislav Delay,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.