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 Jordan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
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 marimba 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 Ten City to the dance 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Yusef Lateef,
Minutemen,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Slits,
Bob Dylan,
T.S.O.L.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Janne Schatter,
Albert Ayler,
The Divine Comedy,
Circle Jerks,
Hot Snakes,
The Beau Brummels,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Mojo Men,
Nils Olav,
The Gladiators,
Funkadelic,
Au Pairs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cecil Taylor,
Byron Stingily,
Joe Smooth,
Henry Cow,
Whodini,
Agent Orange,
X-Ray Spex,
Hoover,
Bronski Beat,
Los Fastidios,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fire Engines,
Darondo,
Pere Ubu,
Joy Division,
The Doobie Brothers,
Heaven 17,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Wasted Youth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
AZ,
Fugazi,
Judy Mowatt,
Pantaleimon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dead Boys,
Aswad,
Jimmy McGriff,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dawn Penn,
Liliput,
David Bowie,
Brothers Johnson,
Scientists,
Ultravox,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.