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 Cyprus and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Animal Collective to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
DNA,
Kaleidoscope,
Dark Day,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harmonia,
The Busters,
Marine Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Pussy Galore,
Aural Exciters,
Yaz,
The Electric Prunes,
Wally Richardson,
Wings,
Average White Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bauhaus,
Delta 5,
The Dirtbombs,
Porter Ricks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eddi Front,
Ralphi Rosario,
Y Pants,
June of 44,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nation of Ulysses,
Intrusion,
Zapp,
the Germs,
Von Mondo,
The Tremeloes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Max Romeo,
Unrelated Segments,
The Vogues,
Clear Light,
Freddie Wadling,
The Black Dice,
Black Flag,
Toni Rubio,
F. McDonald,
the Human League,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Index,
Eric Copeland,
Quantec,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tropical Tobacco,
Electric Prunes,
Nas,
Ponytail,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nik Kershaw,
Brass Construction,
Radio Birdman,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Smog,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.