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 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Wally Richardson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
The Trojans,
The American Breed,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stetsasonic,
New Age Steppers,
Max Romeo,
Duran Duran,
Lakeside,
Anthony Braxton,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sound Behaviour,
James White and The Blacks,
Shuggie Otis,
The Moleskins,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Idris Muhammad,
Q and Not U,
The Vogues,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sexual Harrassment,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Warsaw,
Soft Cell,
Young Marble Giants,
The Real Kids,
Jacob Miller,
Alison Limerick,
Sarah Menescal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marc Almond,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Essential Logic,
Slick Rick,
The Music Machine,
Monks,
The Blackbyrds,
Q65,
Smog,
FM Einheit,
A Certain Ratio,
Simply Red,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Raincoats,
Radiohead,
Loose Ends,
Magma,
Peter and Kerry,
LL Cool J,
Slave,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kayak,
Traffic Nightmare,
The United States of America,
The Martian,
MC5,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.