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 El Salvador and from Halifax.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb 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 The Mummies to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Motions,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Hoover,
the Slits,
John Holt,
UT,
Ten City,
Erykah Badu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Altered Images,
Brick,
In Retrospect,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soulsonic Force,
Neil Young,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Magazine,
Pagans,
Ossler,
Fluxion,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Piero Umiliani,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scratch Acid,
Sparks,
The Gun Club,
Susan Cadogan,
CMW,
Connie Case,
Leonard Cohen,
Matthew Halsall,
Y Pants,
The Red Krayola,
The Skatalites,
Shoche,
The Gladiators,
The Fortunes,
David Axelrod,
Adolescents,
Bobby Womack,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sugar Minott,
Slave,
Funky Four + One,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Lynne,
Bootsy Collins,
Main Source,
Q65,
Ornette Coleman,
Swell Maps,
Goldenarms,
T.S.O.L.,
Index,
Steve Hackett,
Eden Ahbez,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.