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 Lithuania and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 Young Marble Giants to the grime 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
the Slits,
Y Pants,
The Litter,
Bobby Byrd,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fela Kuti,
Subhumans,
Popol Vuh,
Loose Ends,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sam Rivers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bush Tetras,
Hasil Adkins,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pulsallama,
Joe Smooth,
The Searchers,
Minnie Riperton,
The Knickerbockers,
Todd Rundgren,
Khruangbin,
The Dirtbombs,
Barry Ungar,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gang of Four,
Rosa Yemen,
Blancmange,
Oneida,
Bill Near,
Albert Ayler,
10cc,
Roxy Music,
The Offenders,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Dead C,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jacob Miller,
Franke,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cluster,
Jeff Lynne,
Isaac Hayes,
Television Personalities,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pussy Galore,
Television,
Clear Light,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ralphi Rosario,
Swans,
Ken Boothe,
The Cowsills,
The Motions,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lalann,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultra Naté,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.