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 Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 snare 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 Second Layer to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Soft Cell,
Panda Bear,
Nico,
the Swans,
Michelle Simonal,
The Flesh Eaters,
Make Up,
Model 500,
Soulsonic Force,
The Moody Blues,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Walker Brothers,
Minnie Riperton,
Frankie Knuckles,
Slick Rick,
Dark Day,
The Star Department,
New Age Steppers,
Liliput,
Malaria!,
Das Ding,
U.S. Maple,
Minny Pops,
Lee Hazlewood,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric Dolphy,
Faust,
Audionom,
cv313,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Divine Comedy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Icehouse,
Suicide,
Vainqueur,
Neil Young,
The Golliwogs,
Dawn Penn,
Bush Tetras,
Deadbeat,
Scrapy,
Johnny Clarke,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Donny Hathaway,
Jerry's Kids,
The Electric Prunes,
The Blues Magoos,
Fela Kuti,
Scratch Acid,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Traffic Nightmare,
Visage,
Neu!,
The Misunderstood,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Busters,
T. Rex,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.