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 Zambia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Subhumans to the rap 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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Talk Talk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Monks,
Archie Shepp,
Circle Jerks,
Morten Harket,
Al Stewart,
Severed Heads,
Bronski Beat,
The Stooges,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dawn Penn,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Animal Collective,
Intrusion,
New Age Steppers,
Skarface,
Aswad,
The Birthday Party,
Graham Central Station,
Y Pants,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Moody Blues,
Tears for Fears,
Groovy Waters,
This Heat,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sun City Girls,
Yusef Lateef,
Dave Gahan,
Roxy Music,
Siglo XX,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scientists,
Toni Rubio,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mission of Burma,
Alphaville,
Metal Thangz,
Schoolly D,
Fad Gadget,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
ABC,
Mandrill,
Whodini,
The Cure,
The Buckinghams,
John Foxx,
Barrington Levy,
Parry Music,
FM Einheit,
LL Cool J,
Joensuu 1685,
Supertramp,
Wally Richardson,
R.M.O.,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.