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 Chad and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Doobie Brothers to the dance 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Mr. Review,
Suicide,
Quando Quango,
Jandek,
Radiohead,
Fatback Band,
Darondo,
Black Sheep,
Symarip,
Moebius,
L. Decosne,
Pierre Henry,
Todd Terry,
Ultra Naté,
The Standells,
The Angels of Light,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Wake,
Kurtis Blow,
Monolake,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crime,
Intrusion,
David Bowie,
The Move,
Barbara Tucker,
Anthony Braxton,
Second Layer,
June Days,
Y Pants,
The Busters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bluetip,
Panda Bear,
The Selecter,
Soul Sonic Force,
Clear Light,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nas,
The Names,
The Slackers,
The Music Machine,
The Motions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alphaville,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Byron Stingily,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Angry Samoans,
Chris Corsano,
Donald Byrd,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lalo Schifrin,
8 Eyed Spy,
Faraquet,
Sister Nancy,
Sandy B,
Goldenarms,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.