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 Mongolia and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Big Daddy Kane to the disco 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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Mars,
Severed Heads,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed,
Index,
Ossler,
Blossom Toes,
Quantec,
The Real Kids,
Dawn Penn,
Al Stewart,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cowsills,
Tropical Tobacco,
Patti Smith,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Oblivians,
Bill Near,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Organ,
DNA,
Jerry's Kids,
Jerry Gold Smith,
X-102,
Buzzcocks,
Absolute Body Control,
The Neon Judgement,
Aswad,
The Doors,
Dorothy Ashby,
Yazoo,
Little Man,
The Sound,
Hoover,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Angels of Light,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lalo Schifrin,
World's Most,
Ken Boothe,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pole,
Connie Case,
Lower 48,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Arcadia,
Ituana,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fugazi,
Dennis Brown,
Eric B and Rakim,
Quadrant,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lee Hazlewood,
Erykah Badu,
Sight & Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Magazine,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.