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 Austria and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Minny Pops to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Al Stewart,
Harmonia,
ABBA,
Arthur Verocai,
Boredoms,
Basic Channel,
Fela Kuti,
Half Japanese,
Lindisfarne,
Ossler,
Subhumans,
Japan,
Donald Byrd,
Liliput,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scratch Acid,
The Count Five,
The Offenders,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Residents,
Idris Muhammad,
Peter and Kerry,
Magazine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hot Snakes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Howard Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Can,
The Pop Group,
Bauhaus,
Yellowson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lou Reed,
Drive Like Jehu,
Newcleus,
Stereo Dub,
Malaria!,
World's Most,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eli Mardock,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Interpol,
The Electric Prunes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Patti Smith,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Morten Harket,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pole,
The United States of America,
Terrestrial Tones,
Negative Approach,
Lightning Bolt,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.