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 Thailand and from Copenhagen.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Spoonie Gee to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rakim,
In Retrospect,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Saints,
Urselle,
The Young Rascals,
Aloha Tigers,
Stereo Dub,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kerri Chandler,
KRS-One,
T.S.O.L.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pere Ubu,
The Cure,
Funkadelic,
Severed Heads,
Outsiders,
The Victims,
Talk Talk,
Angry Samoans,
John Coltrane,
Judy Mowatt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Janne Schatter,
Symarip,
Barclay James Harvest,
Connie Case,
The Detroit Cobras,
Donald Byrd,
Radio Birdman,
Clear Light,
Underground Resistance,
AZ,
Unrelated Segments,
Parry Music,
Tom Boy,
The Grass Roots,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Accadde A,
The Count Five,
Skarface,
Don Cherry,
Dead Boys,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lightning Bolt,
ABBA,
Dave Gahan,
Model 500,
Gabor Szabo,
T. Rex,
Patti Smith,
Interpol,
John Cale,
Liliput,
Scientists,
Amon Düül II,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.