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 Panama and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Captain Beefheart 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 June Days to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Procol Harum,
Desert Stars,
The Durutti Column,
Kurtis Blow,
Kerri Chandler,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cymande,
Lalann,
Yazoo,
Average White Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Rosa Yemen,
Man Parrish,
Model 500,
The Real Kids,
Rhythm & Sound,
Donny Hathaway,
Joey Negro,
Mo-Dettes,
Icehouse,
Crash Course in Science,
Drive Like Jehu,
Television,
Ossler,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Magma,
Pole,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ronan,
Magazine,
The Fugs,
Soul II Soul,
Reagan Youth,
Cybotron,
Rakim,
Rites of Spring,
Janne Schatter,
Moss Icon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fluxion,
The Dirtbombs,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Letta Mbulu,
New York Dolls,
The Five Americans,
Bush Tetras,
DNA,
Lucky Dragons,
Soulsonic Force,
Crooked Eye,
H. Thieme,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Technova,
MDC,
Arcadia,
Unrelated Segments,
DJ Style,
Neil Young,
Interpol,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.