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 Kazakhstan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Association to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes 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?
The Black Dice,
Marc Almond,
The Litter,
Cecil Taylor,
Fatback Band,
Intrusion,
Eric Dolphy,
Cheater Slicks,
Dawn Penn,
The Saints,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eli Mardock,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Star Department,
Ponytail,
Anthony Braxton,
ABBA,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Shoche,
Roxy Music,
Agitation Free,
The Toasters,
The Gories,
The Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Minnie Riperton,
Isaac Hayes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Pus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Main Source,
The Skatalites,
Simply Red,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nico,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cowsills,
Grauzone,
The Human League,
Morten Harket,
Rotary Connection,
X-101,
Jacob Miller,
Bob Dylan,
Malaria!,
Symarip,
Gang Starr,
Lee Hazlewood,
Youth Brigade,
Jacques Brel,
Juan Atkins,
Animal Collective,
The Stooges,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hot Snakes,
T.S.O.L.,
Quadrant,
Piero Umiliani,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.