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 Argentina and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar 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 Spoonie Gee 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Charles Mingus,
Siglo XX,
PIL,
X-101,
Unwound,
Monks,
Marc Almond,
Accadde A,
Ten City,
Toni Rubio,
Malaria!,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Names,
Pussy Galore,
Pierre Henry,
The Searchers,
Glenn Branca,
Kaleidoscope,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fat Boys,
Mantronix,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Pus,
Lightning Bolt,
The Dirtbombs,
Isaac Hayes,
Arcadia,
Sugar Minott,
Blake Baxter,
The Moleskins,
Camouflage,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Motions,
Deadbeat,
Patti Smith,
Black Moon,
Jerry's Kids,
Technova,
Metal Thangz,
Archie Shepp,
Suicide,
Monolake,
Organ,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Simply Red,
Lungfish,
Erasure,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Anakelly,
Eurythmics,
Davy DMX,
Popol Vuh,
Khruangbin,
Main Source,
Young Marble Giants,
Robert Wyatt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Coltrane,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.