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 Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the marimba 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the dance 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Moon,
Alton Ellis,
Crime,
Amazonics,
The Mummies,
Piero Umiliani,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tres Demented,
Japan,
Scrapy,
Mr. Review,
Sun City Girls,
Spandau Ballet,
Panda Bear,
David McCallum,
Hardrive,
JFA,
Avey Tare,
Fela Kuti,
Parry Music,
The Alarm Clocks,
Max Romeo,
Aural Exciters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The American Breed,
The Wake,
Andrew Hill,
Rod Modell,
Masters at Work,
Darondo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kerri Chandler,
Rapeman,
John Coltrane,
The Names,
The Invisible,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lucky Dragons,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Stockholm Monsters,
Johnny Clarke,
Slave,
Grauzone,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Monks,
Grey Daturas,
Lou Christie,
The Standells,
Oneida,
Trumans Water,
Quadrant,
Aswad,
Sandy B,
The Star Department,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wally Richardson,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.