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 Guinea and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Holger Czukay 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 Radiohead to the punk 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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Buckinghams,
Wally Richardson,
Wire,
Jacob Miller,
The J.B.'s,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Michelle Simonal,
Judy Mowatt,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Robert Hood,
The Dave Clark Five,
David Bowie,
Radiopuhelimet,
Maurizio,
Todd Terry,
Janne Schatter,
Desert Stars,
Aaron Thompson,
The Knickerbockers,
Marvin Gaye,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slick Rick,
F. McDonald,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Althea and Donna,
The Human League,
Circle Jerks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wolf Eyes,
Con Funk Shun,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eli Mardock,
Sister Nancy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Boz Scaggs,
The Techniques,
Mr. Review,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Associates,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wasted Youth,
MC5,
Saccharine Trust,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
R.M.O.,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dawn Penn,
The Star Department,
Gang Green,
Flamin' Groovies,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jeru the Damaja,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Arthur Verocai,
Harry Pussy,
The Index,
Theoretical Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
Cheater Slicks,
Erykah Badu,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.