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 Peru and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Lou Christie to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
Barbara Tucker,
Tubeway Army,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hoover,
Mars,
Simply Red,
Derrick May,
Roy Ayers,
Soft Cell,
Ken Boothe,
Fat Boys,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Searchers,
ABBA,
Goldenarms,
Michelle Simonal,
Dorothy Ashby,
Peter and Kerry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rosa Yemen,
World's Most,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Das Ding,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Todd Rundgren,
Curtis Mayfield,
New York Dolls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Swell Maps,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Niagra,
Aloha Tigers,
Ice-T,
The Knickerbockers,
DJ Sneak,
Lyres,
Darondo,
Pole,
Tears for Fears,
The Moleskins,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kaleidoscope,
H. Thieme,
Janne Schatter,
Ultimate Spinach,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Suicide,
Charles Mingus,
Pierre Henry,
The Monks,
Motorama,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sällskapet,
Mark Hollis,
Bizarre Inc.,
Deakin,
The Grass Roots,
Soul II Soul,
Fatback Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Electric Prunes,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.