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 Antigua and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the electroclash 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Minutemen,
Agent Orange,
The Buckinghams,
EPMD,
Bush Tetras,
Patti Smith,
Darondo,
Kerri Chandler,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Max Romeo,
Eve St. Jones,
The Star Department,
Can,
Graham Central Station,
Radio Birdman,
The Residents,
New York Dolls,
The Smiths,
Yellowson,
Boz Scaggs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Janne Schatter,
The Zeros,
The Blackbyrds,
The Skatalites,
Albert Ayler,
The Techniques,
Don Cherry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Maurizio,
Scott Walker,
Fugazi,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott Heron,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Scratch Acid,
The Raincoats,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Robert Wyatt,
Slick Rick,
10cc,
Stiv Bators,
Bobby Sherman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Barry Ungar,
Vladislav Delay,
Marshall Jefferson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Quantec,
Robert Hood,
Slave,
The Standells,
Nas,
Minnie Riperton,
JFA,
Audionom,
Rufus Thomas,
Main Source,
Terry Callier,
Sonny Sharrock,
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.