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 Romania and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron 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 Agitation Free to the dance 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Happenings,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The New Christs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Moby Grape,
Porter Ricks,
Hoover,
Scratch Acid,
Index,
DNA,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Camberwell Now,
Loose Ends,
Black Pus,
Dawn Penn,
Don Cherry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Lydon,
Steve Hackett,
Matthew Bourne,
the Swans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ice-T,
Mark Hollis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brand Nubian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Associates,
Sonny Sharrock,
Alison Limerick,
The Fuzztones,
the Bar-Kays,
Joey Negro,
Marshall Jefferson,
Darondo,
Sugar Minott,
Cymande,
Aural Exciters,
Reuben Wilson,
Public Enemy,
Yellowson,
The Beau Brummels,
The Kinks,
Con Funk Shun,
The Real Kids,
Robert Hood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pylon,
The Human League,
Joe Finger,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crime,
Archie Shepp,
Aloha Tigers,
James White and The Blacks,
K-Klass,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.