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 Cuba and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 James White and The Blacks to the rap 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
La Düsseldorf,
Spandau Ballet,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Q and Not U,
Anakelly,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Tremeloes,
Niagra,
The Saints,
The Misunderstood,
The Cowsills,
New York Dolls,
Robert Görl,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sixth Finger,
8 Eyed Spy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wings,
Nation of Ulysses,
Chrome,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Beau Brummels,
Interpol,
Matthew Halsall,
Camberwell Now,
Pere Ubu,
Rites of Spring,
Blossom Toes,
Essential Logic,
Con Funk Shun,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Swell Maps,
Franke,
Colin Newman,
Rod Modell,
Harmonia,
The Leaves,
Little Man,
Pagans,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ponytail,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joy Division,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eurythmics,
Gichy Dan,
Davy DMX,
John Cale,
The Grass Roots,
The Durutti Column,
Erasure,
Technova,
Dennis Brown,
Radio Birdman,
T.S.O.L.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.