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 Zambia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 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 Eric B and Rakim 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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Ossler,
John Foxx,
Japan,
Metal Thangz,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Spoonie Gee,
Blossom Toes,
Kenny Larkin,
The Shadows of Knight,
Vainqueur,
John Holt,
Delta 5,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Das Ding,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fugs,
Radio Birdman,
The Seeds,
Donny Hathaway,
FM Einheit,
Oneida,
Crime,
Pussy Galore,
Mo-Dettes,
Ronnie Foster,
Gerry Rafferty,
Charles Mingus,
Neil Young,
Eric Copeland,
Kerri Chandler,
Skriet,
Black Moon,
Alice Coltrane,
OOIOO,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ultravox,
Nirvana,
In Retrospect,
Ornette Coleman,
Quando Quango,
Tim Buckley,
Crooked Eye,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Yusef Lateef,
Unwound,
Robert Görl,
The Blues Magoos,
Shuggie Otis,
a-ha,
Sister Nancy,
The Birthday Party,
Eurythmics,
Mr. Review,
La Düsseldorf,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nas,
Supertramp,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Flesh Eaters,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.