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 Luxembourg and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
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 Moss Icon 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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Saints,
The Velvet Underground,
Negative Approach,
Moebius,
Bobby Sherman,
Roxette,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric B and Rakim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Easy Going,
Con Funk Shun,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Misunderstood,
The Moleskins,
Yaz,
New York Dolls,
Mr. Review,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scrapy,
Jeff Mills,
Danielle Patucci,
Marine Girls,
Sugar Minott,
Scan 7,
Surgeon,
Yazoo,
MDC,
FM Einheit,
Drive Like Jehu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Toasters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Connie Case,
Bobby Womack,
The Techniques,
Bobby Byrd,
The Happenings,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Flag,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tim Buckley,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nico,
Wally Richardson,
Oblivians,
Technova,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cure,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soft Machine,
Barrington Levy,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
JFA,
The United States of America,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.