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 Slovakia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro 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 Stiv Bators to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
The Misunderstood,
Tom Boy,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Human League,
Nation of Ulysses,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tubeway Army,
Wings,
Television Personalities,
Yaz,
Lungfish,
James White and The Blacks,
Howard Jones,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kaleidoscope,
T.S.O.L.,
Ronan,
Kenny Larkin,
Faust,
Bob Dylan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Negative Approach,
10cc,
Drive Like Jehu,
Desert Stars,
The Victims,
Black Moon,
Circle Jerks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Aural Exciters,
the Association,
Joy Division,
Guru Guru,
Sixth Finger,
Nico,
Gabor Szabo,
The Count Five,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Anthony Braxton,
Mark Hollis,
The American Breed,
Tim Buckley,
Alton Ellis,
Spoonie Gee,
Kerri Chandler,
Magma,
Fugazi,
Eric B and Rakim,
Monks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
John Holt,
The Index,
Zero Boys,
Boogie Down Productions,
Niagra,
Duran Duran,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.