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 Denmark and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Glasgow.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Alarm Clocks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Victims. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bang On A Can,
The Mummies,
The Count Five,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pere Ubu,
Heaven 17,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Magma,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Byrd,
Nirvana,
The Gladiators,
Byron Stingily,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Blues Magoos,
David Bowie,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fear,
Ken Boothe,
Can,
Crooked Eye,
The Remains,
Sound Behaviour,
Cybotron,
Tubeway Army,
Matthew Bourne,
Wasted Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Roy Ayers,
Wire,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
June Days,
Kaleidoscope,
Desert Stars,
The Skatalites,
Drexciya,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Laurel Aitken,
Delta 5,
Alison Limerick,
Black Bananas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wolf Eyes,
The Monochrome Set,
Cameo,
Dennis Brown,
Lindisfarne,
Bluetip,
The Searchers,
Joensuu 1685,
John Coltrane,
Radio Birdman,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Christie,
The Victims,
Donny Hathaway,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.