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 Slovenia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Nile Rodgers 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 The Offenders to the funk 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Blake Baxter,
Wally Richardson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Young Rascals,
Soft Machine,
The Buckinghams,
Parry Music,
The Human League,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Black Dice,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bill Wells,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Bar-Kays,
Can,
Rod Modell,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pagans,
Wasted Youth,
Hot Snakes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Reed,
Drexciya,
Oneida,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Max Romeo,
Suburban Knight,
The Residents,
Tropical Tobacco,
World's Most,
Ossler,
Stockholm Monsters,
Graham Central Station,
Alphaville,
Angry Samoans,
The Birthday Party,
EPMD,
Radiohead,
Scientists,
Theoretical Girls,
AZ,
Arab on Radar,
Marc Almond,
Scan 7,
Lalo Schifrin,
Johnny Clarke,
Schoolly D,
The Fugs,
Blancmange,
Radio Birdman,
Au Pairs,
Freddie Wadling,
The Victims,
Rapeman,
JFA,
Kurtis Blow,
Terry Callier,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sun City Girls,
Funkadelic,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.