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 Singapore and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Michael McDonald 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 Fela Kuti to the grime 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
The Zeros,
Japan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Animal Collective,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barbara Tucker,
Albert Ayler,
Monolake,
Mission of Burma,
10cc,
Kurtis Blow,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang Starr,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gong,
Make Up,
Y Pants,
Janne Schatter,
DJ Style,
Cheater Slicks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Black Flag,
Talk Talk,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Supertramp,
Subhumans,
Bill Near,
Surgeon,
Main Source,
Tim Buckley,
Con Funk Shun,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lou Reed,
Bootsy Collins,
Moby Grape,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Silicon Teens,
the Normal,
Dave Gahan,
Ossler,
Lightning Bolt,
The Black Dice,
Amon Düül,
Banda Bassotti,
Flash Fearless,
Sugar Minott,
Smog,
Moss Icon,
Harmonia,
Magma,
The Human League,
Jerry's Kids,
Slick Rick,
T.S.O.L.,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Barrington Levy,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.