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 Lebanon and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deepchord,
Cal Tjader,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arcadia,
Franke,
Pere Ubu,
Lou Reed,
Surgeon,
The Tremeloes,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Vogues,
Derrick May,
F. McDonald,
Suburban Knight,
Young Marble Giants,
Robert Hood,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roxette,
ABBA,
Robert Görl,
Marc Almond,
Delon & Dalcan,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Count Five,
The Misunderstood,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fortunes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mad Mike,
Boz Scaggs,
Pantytec,
Tears for Fears,
Livin' Joy,
World's Most,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Pop Group,
Hashim,
One Last Wish,
The Last Poets,
The Searchers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cymande,
DJ Sneak,
Ornette Coleman,
Rites of Spring,
Donny Hathaway,
Radio Birdman,
Blossom Toes,
Carl Craig,
Fluxion,
Man Eating Sloth,
Flipper,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Max Romeo,
Subhumans,
The Doors,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.