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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 theremin 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fatback Band,
Infiniti,
B.T. Express,
Rapeman,
Pagans,
Au Pairs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dark Day,
Girls At Our Best!,
KRS-One,
Make Up,
Jesper Dahlback,
Hot Snakes,
Cal Tjader,
This Heat,
Whodini,
The Motions,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The American Breed,
Juan Atkins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Selecter,
The Slackers,
Idris Muhammad,
The Black Dice,
China Crisis,
Accadde A,
Ituana,
cv313,
Swans,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
James White and The Blacks,
Janne Schatter,
Lou Reed,
Buzzcocks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Simply Red,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hasil Adkins,
Depeche Mode,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Dead C,
Delta 5,
Von Mondo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sex Pistols,
Hoover,
The Buckinghams,
Television,
Gil Scott Heron,
Susan Cadogan,
Warsaw,
Mad Mike,
Funky Four + One,
Jimmy McGriff,
Delon & Dalcan,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.