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 Dominican Republic and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Ken Boothe,
The Toasters,
Swans,
Rakim,
the Human League,
Graham Central Station,
Nas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wasted Youth,
The Standells,
Sun City Girls,
Yusef Lateef,
Junior Murvin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Buzzcocks,
Rites of Spring,
10cc,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Dead C,
The Victims,
Curtis Mayfield,
Steve Hackett,
Susan Cadogan,
the Bar-Kays,
Japan,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Sherman,
Cybotron,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David Bowie,
The Tremeloes,
Maleditus Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
Electric Prunes,
Technova,
Rekid,
Althea and Donna,
Procol Harum,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bill Wells,
The Invisible,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joyce Sims,
Public Enemy,
Simply Red,
Bizarre Inc.,
Thompson Twins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Radiohead,
Guru Guru,
Bluetip,
The Monochrome Set,
Jeff Mills,
Sixth Finger,
Joe Smooth,
Aural Exciters,
Tim Buckley,
Hot Snakes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Andrew Hill,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.