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 Malta and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 Juan Atkins to the jazz 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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
EPMD,
David McCallum,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Derrick May,
Anthony Braxton,
LL Cool J,
The Dead C,
Dennis Brown,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sight & Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Chris Corsano,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Martian,
Moss Icon,
48th St. Collective,
John Holt,
The Moody Blues,
Magma,
Parry Music,
Crime,
Minor Threat,
Lucky Dragons,
Suicide,
Tres Demented,
Mission of Burma,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
K-Klass,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pantaleimon,
Porter Ricks,
Das Ding,
Ultra Naté,
Tomorrow,
Erykah Badu,
E-Dancer,
The Gories,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
CMW,
The United States of America,
Carl Craig,
The Misunderstood,
Sandy B,
Los Fastidios,
Spoonie Gee,
Byron Stingily,
Mad Mike,
Fluxion,
The Buckinghams,
Don Cherry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Black Moon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nik Kershaw,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ponytail,
Fear,
The Cowsills,
Theoretical Girls,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.