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 South Africa and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Deadbeat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Black Dice,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jacob Miller,
Pole,
Organ,
Kerri Chandler,
Scrapy,
Robert Wyatt,
Wire,
Moby Grape,
Ronan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Birthday Party,
Swell Maps,
Sam Rivers,
Make Up,
Rosa Yemen,
The Five Americans,
China Crisis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Todd Terry,
B.T. Express,
Sparks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ten City,
Flash Fearless,
Brand Nubian,
Robert Görl,
The Modern Lovers,
Sun City Girls,
ABC,
Underground Resistance,
Lungfish,
X-Ray Spex,
Shuggie Otis,
Ludus,
Swans,
Fatback Band,
Alton Ellis,
Dark Day,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Magma,
Nick Fraelich,
Oblivians,
Q and Not U,
Crooked Eye,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Masters at Work,
Siglo XX,
Public Image Ltd.,
E-Dancer,
Funky Four + One,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.