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 Vietnam and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bobby Womack to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Thee Headcoats,
The Detroit Cobras,
Carl Craig,
Mr. Review,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Supertramp,
Quantec,
Cymande,
The Fugs,
Monolake,
Black Moon,
The United States of America,
Aural Exciters,
Panda Bear,
The Pretty Things,
Magazine,
Whodini,
Kenny Larkin,
Don Cherry,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Yusef Lateef,
Tim Buckley,
Lucky Dragons,
Half Japanese,
Godley & Creme,
Icehouse,
Model 500,
Roger Hodgson,
John Coltrane,
Henry Cow,
The Doobie Brothers,
Judy Mowatt,
Barrington Levy,
These Immortal Souls,
Q65,
The Tremeloes,
Basic Channel,
Urselle,
Das Ding,
Con Funk Shun,
Technova,
The Red Krayola,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Newcleus,
Bobby Sherman,
the Human League,
H. Thieme,
Motorama,
Howard Jones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Sex Pistols,
Joe Smooth,
The Toasters,
Ken Boothe,
Moss Icon,
Wire,
The Sound,
Eden Ahbez,
Mark Hollis,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.