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 Romania 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 Aaron Thompson to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Marvin Gaye,
The Searchers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roy Ayers,
Panda Bear,
The Real Kids,
Scrapy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
OOIOO,
the Germs,
Goldenarms,
Loose Ends,
Shoche,
48th St. Collective,
Suicide,
Pantytec,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Harmonia,
The Modern Lovers,
T.S.O.L.,
The J.B.'s,
Khruangbin,
The Happenings,
Gang of Four,
Mandrill,
Pierre Henry,
Ituana,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Negative Approach,
Boz Scaggs,
Charles Mingus,
Reuben Wilson,
The Mummies,
June of 44,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bob Dylan,
Deakin,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Simply Red,
Moby Grape,
Vainqueur,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cameo,
Jacob Miller,
Quando Quango,
Graham Central Station,
Camouflage,
Malaria!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Avey Tare,
The Last Poets,
Gang Starr,
Erasure,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Star Department,
Porter Ricks,
Kenny Larkin,
Marine Girls,
Make Up,
the Soft Cell,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.