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 East Timor and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ 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 Ludus to the funk 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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Amon Düül,
Mad Mike,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tears for Fears,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nico,
The Divine Comedy,
The Busters,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barry Ungar,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scott Walker,
Monks,
Banda Bassotti,
Con Funk Shun,
The Saints,
Skarface,
Underground Resistance,
Easy Going,
Yaz,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
One Last Wish,
Crash Course in Science,
Aural Exciters,
Todd Rundgren,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Names,
Boredoms,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Trumans Water,
Buzzcocks,
The Pretty Things,
The Wake,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tomorrow,
The Real Kids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Toasters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
48th St. Collective,
KRS-One,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun City Girls,
Technova,
Dead Boys,
The Cure,
Deakin,
Wire,
Erasure,
Los Fastidios,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gang of Four,
Sam Rivers,
Cluster,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Sheep,
The Mojo Men,
The Associates,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Man Parrish,
Big Daddy Kane,
Reuben Wilson,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.