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 Laos and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet 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 The Fuzztones to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Moleskins,
AZ,
The Zeros,
Au Pairs,
Yusef Lateef,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Young Rascals,
Adolescents,
X-101,
The Velvet Underground,
The Seeds,
Kayak,
Intrusion,
Patti Smith,
Eli Mardock,
Pole,
Anakelly,
Juan Atkins,
Newcleus,
Dark Day,
Archie Shepp,
Marmalade,
Basic Channel,
T.S.O.L.,
Skriet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Banda Bassotti,
The Slits,
Fad Gadget,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brothers Johnson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Peter and Kerry,
Fear,
Todd Terry,
Reuben Wilson,
the Association,
Fatback Band,
New Order,
Public Image Ltd.,
Schoolly D,
The Moody Blues,
Wolf Eyes,
Hot Snakes,
Barrington Levy,
Scan 7,
The Fugs,
The Trojans,
Judy Mowatt,
The American Breed,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Radiohead,
Peter & Gordon,
Eurythmics,
Average White Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Hoover,
Scientists,
Rekid,
Ultravox,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.