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 Gambia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Godley & Creme to the dance 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Bluetip,
Isaac Hayes,
Soul II Soul,
Severed Heads,
Jeff Mills,
Joyce Sims,
Lower 48,
The Fire Engines,
Crash Course in Science,
Infiniti,
Cal Tjader,
Hot Snakes,
PIL,
Junior Murvin,
Amon Düül,
Toni Rubio,
Swell Maps,
Vladislav Delay,
Radio Birdman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
a-ha,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Human League,
The Cure,
Quadrant,
Fatback Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ituana,
Qualms,
The Real Kids,
Japan,
Absolute Body Control,
Moebius,
Nirvana,
Donald Byrd,
Visage,
Mandrill,
Mission of Burma,
The Shadows of Knight,
June Days,
Lou Reed,
Hoover,
Dual Sessions,
Warren Ellis,
Tim Buckley,
New Age Steppers,
The Tremeloes,
Alice Coltrane,
The Monochrome Set,
Lakeside,
Pagans,
Scott Walker,
The Pop Group,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jandek,
Animal Collective,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jacques Brel,
Technova,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marmalade,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.