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 Montenegro and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Barry Ungar,
Rapeman,
Minnie Riperton,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Zeros,
Nas,
Fat Boys,
The Martian,
The Victims,
Blancmange,
the Germs,
Josef K,
Sixth Finger,
The Fuzztones,
Ituana,
The Last Poets,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Silicon Teens,
John Lydon,
Lucky Dragons,
The Beau Brummels,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mandrill,
Bronski Beat,
Sister Nancy,
Boz Scaggs,
Skriet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ten City,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Brand Nubian,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Gladiators,
kango's stein massive,
Laurel Aitken,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Human League,
Underground Resistance,
Iggy Pop,
Hardrive,
Fatback Band,
The Gories,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Smog,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Blackbyrds,
Lalann,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ohio Players,
Mary Jane Girls,
Arab on Radar,
Franke,
Basic Channel,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Das Ding,
Black Moon,
Sugar Minott,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.