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 China and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Young Rascals to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joy Division,
The Tremeloes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Adolescents,
Yellowson,
Crime,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
JFA,
The Divine Comedy,
Minnie Riperton,
Fad Gadget,
Los Fastidios,
Gang Starr,
Scrapy,
The Names,
Monks,
Amazonics,
The Martian,
Matthew Halsall,
Jeff Lynne,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scientists,
Mo-Dettes,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Star Department,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Theoretical Girls,
ABBA,
Massinfluence,
Gang Green,
Urselle,
Half Japanese,
Rites of Spring,
Schoolly D,
Lucky Dragons,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The American Breed,
Maurizio,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rotary Connection,
The Slackers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Angry Samoans,
EPMD,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aural Exciters,
Technova,
Underground Resistance,
The Monochrome Set,
World's Most,
Prince Buster,
The Gap Band,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Erykah Badu,
Alison Limerick,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.