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 Lesotho and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum 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 Shuggie Otis to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Jeff Mills,
Buzzcocks,
Ice-T,
Y Pants,
Scrapy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Music Machine,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mark Hollis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cecil Taylor,
The Last Poets,
Man Eating Sloth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
David Bowie,
Half Japanese,
Alice Coltrane,
Slave,
Sun City Girls,
The Seeds,
Suicide,
Dave Gahan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fortunes,
Kenny Larkin,
The Electric Prunes,
Zero Boys,
Neu!,
La Düsseldorf,
Junior Murvin,
The Kinks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yaz,
Ohio Players,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crash Course in Science,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Anthony Braxton,
Wasted Youth,
The Mojo Men,
Vladislav Delay,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
FM Einheit,
DNA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Raincoats,
Idris Muhammad,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nik Kershaw,
Funkadelic,
Nico,
Groovy Waters,
Animal Collective,
Funky Four + One,
Malaria!,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.