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 South Sudan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang Starr,
Alphaville,
a-ha,
DJ Sneak,
EPMD,
Sun Ra,
Con Funk Shun,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
This Heat,
Pagans,
Surgeon,
Lyres,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jeff Mills,
Accadde A,
The Blackbyrds,
James White and The Blacks,
The Young Rascals,
Bootsy Collins,
Althea and Donna,
Flash Fearless,
Fad Gadget,
Warren Ellis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soft Machine,
The Techniques,
Bill Near,
Tubeway Army,
Eric Dolphy,
Eric Copeland,
Ultravox,
The Fire Engines,
the Germs,
Country Teasers,
Hardrive,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Second Layer,
Charles Mingus,
Howard Jones,
Archie Shepp,
Boredoms,
Sixth Finger,
Angry Samoans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Popol Vuh,
Rapeman,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Coltrane,
Spandau Ballet,
Blancmange,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Camouflage,
Joyce Sims,
Chris & Cosey,
Index,
Grey Daturas,
The Names,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.