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 Fiji and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
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 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 Lee Hazlewood to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Max Romeo,
Monolake,
Juan Atkins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fugs,
Sällskapet,
Franke,
Blossom Toes,
Sex Pistols,
The Standells,
One Last Wish,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sam Rivers,
Fatback Band,
Godley & Creme,
The Black Dice,
Judy Mowatt,
Byron Stingily,
The Fortunes,
Model 500,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kerri Chandler,
Chris Corsano,
Echospace,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wolf Eyes,
Bronski Beat,
Man Parrish,
Nico,
Sonny Sharrock,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Todd Rundgren,
Ohio Players,
The Vogues,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Evens,
Rotary Connection,
Mary Jane Girls,
Television Personalities,
The Index,
Eric Dolphy,
Lakeside,
Motorama,
Intrusion,
E-Dancer,
The United States of America,
Panda Bear,
Desert Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Slits,
Ossler,
The Cowsills,
Ituana,
The Last Poets,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Names,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Thompson Twins,
Neil Young,
Joe Smooth,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.