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 Belize and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
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 rhodes 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 Leonard Cohen to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joensuu 1685 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rites of Spring,
Peter & Gordon,
Chrome,
Dennis Brown,
Intrusion,
The Fuzztones,
Parry Music,
Lindisfarne,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Janne Schatter,
Nico,
Soulsonic Force,
Derrick Morgan,
Absolute Body Control,
Bob Dylan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jandek,
The Litter,
AZ,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Star Department,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Faraquet,
Don Cherry,
Albert Ayler,
The Grass Roots,
Eli Mardock,
Funkadelic,
Excepter,
Todd Terry,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ornette Coleman,
Mary Jane Girls,
Procol Harum,
Derrick May,
Trumans Water,
The Trojans,
This Heat,
The Names,
Suicide,
The Barracudas,
Spandau Ballet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Toni Rubio,
The Gories,
Liliput,
The Smoke,
Black Flag,
The Alarm Clocks,
Todd Rundgren,
Laurel Aitken,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Techniques,
Marmalade,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Alice Coltrane,
Magma,
The Saints,
Black Pus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.