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 Moldova and from London.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
L. Decosne,
The Golliwogs,
KRS-One,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Althea and Donna,
Section 25,
Schoolly D,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Music Machine,
In Retrospect,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roxette,
Boz Scaggs,
Skriet,
Aaron Thompson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pagans,
Magazine,
Metal Thangz,
Sixth Finger,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wally Richardson,
Albert Ayler,
Neu!,
Sex Pistols,
Jimmy McGriff,
New Age Steppers,
Monks,
Harmonia,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Icehouse,
Ten City,
Scientists,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Japan,
Barrington Levy,
Rotary Connection,
Yazoo,
Camouflage,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Camberwell Now,
Cluster,
Black Flag,
Jacques Brel,
The Blues Magoos,
the Sonics,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Silicon Teens,
Grandmaster Flash,
Drive Like Jehu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nick Fraelich,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gregory Isaacs,
Davy DMX,
Cameo,
Rites of Spring,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Spoonie Gee,
Warsaw,
Tears for Fears,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.