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 Czech Republic and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Panda Bear to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu 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 rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Black Pus,
John Lydon,
Soft Machine,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kurtis Blow,
New Order,
Bill Near,
Warsaw,
Jeff Mills,
Fat Boys,
Charles Mingus,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Bar-Kays,
Monolake,
Graham Central Station,
Amon Düül,
Vainqueur,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
EPMD,
Faust,
The Fire Engines,
Drexciya,
Spandau Ballet,
Can,
Circle Jerks,
The New Christs,
Chrome,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cymande,
Michelle Simonal,
Symarip,
Negative Approach,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ornette Coleman,
Television Personalities,
Reuben Wilson,
Mad Mike,
Lower 48,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Harmonia,
The Slits,
Brass Construction,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Bananas,
Masters at Work,
a-ha,
Theoretical Girls,
Minny Pops,
Crime,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Liliput,
Wally Richardson,
The Red Krayola,
Scientists,
Nirvana,
Main Source,
Morten Harket,
Popol Vuh,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.