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 Micronesia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 oboe 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 Hashim to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jacob Miller,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Arab on Radar,
Pere Ubu,
The Trojans,
Dave Gahan,
Janne Schatter,
Clear Light,
Reuben Wilson,
Audionom,
Danielle Patucci,
Pierre Henry,
The Barracudas,
John Holt,
Freddie Wadling,
Suburban Knight,
Lindisfarne,
Skaos,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
X-Ray Spex,
Country Teasers,
Con Funk Shun,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eric Copeland,
New Age Steppers,
Los Fastidios,
The Moleskins,
Black Bananas,
Can,
Accadde A,
The Vogues,
Cameo,
Royal Trux,
Cecil Taylor,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Reed,
Gong,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hot Snakes,
Johnny Clarke,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fatback Band,
Minor Threat,
Parry Music,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Cale,
Kaleidoscope,
The Smoke,
Boz Scaggs,
Kurtis Blow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Dave Clark Five,
Schoolly D,
Tres Demented,
LL Cool J,
Darondo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.