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 Nicaragua and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar 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 Joe Smooth to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Sam Rivers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gang of Four,
Ken Boothe,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joey Negro,
The Standells,
Matthew Halsall,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Neu!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dual Sessions,
Altered Images,
KRS-One,
New Order,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Association,
Tommy Roe,
Ultra Naté,
Parry Music,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roxy Music,
Crooked Eye,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Remains,
The Residents,
Electric Prunes,
Ronnie Foster,
LL Cool J,
Max Romeo,
Q65,
The Wake,
Livin' Joy,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Divine Comedy,
Pussy Galore,
Procol Harum,
Neil Young,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scrapy,
The Index,
Ronan,
Cal Tjader,
Make Up,
Barry Ungar,
X-Ray Spex,
Vainqueur,
Tubeway Army,
Scratch Acid,
Lebanon Hanover,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Kinks,
Quantec,
Depeche Mode,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Television Personalities,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.