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 Guatemala and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the funk 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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Lou Reed,
Howard Jones,
Lungfish,
Warren Ellis,
The Martian,
Johnny Osbourne,
X-102,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scan 7,
Circle Jerks,
Judy Mowatt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Laurel Aitken,
Peter and Kerry,
Animal Collective,
Eric Dolphy,
Max Romeo,
B.T. Express,
The Remains,
Crooked Eye,
Grauzone,
The Five Americans,
Theoretical Girls,
Thompson Twins,
Visage,
Rekid,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Oneida,
LL Cool J,
Au Pairs,
Mo-Dettes,
Sonic Youth,
Moss Icon,
Mars,
Popol Vuh,
Ludus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Massinfluence,
Hot Snakes,
Nils Olav,
Ronan,
Ornette Coleman,
Soul Sonic Force,
Anthony Braxton,
Young Marble Giants,
The Invisible,
Duran Duran,
The Standells,
The Busters,
Idris Muhammad,
the Swans,
Heaven 17,
Gil Scott Heron,
DJ Sneak,
Juan Atkins,
Moebius,
The Techniques,
the Normal,
Barclay James Harvest,
10cc,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.