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 Syria and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mark Hollis to the techno 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kayak,
Angry Samoans,
Infiniti,
The Smiths,
Little Man,
Blancmange,
The Walker Brothers,
Janne Schatter,
Freddie Wadling,
Sarah Menescal,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Slits,
Bizarre Inc.,
Skriet,
Dawn Penn,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Durutti Column,
Yaz,
T.S.O.L.,
Neu!,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Al Stewart,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Intrusion,
The Dave Clark Five,
Minny Pops,
Hot Snakes,
The Slits,
U.S. Maple,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Cramps,
Moby Grape,
Moebius,
Eden Ahbez,
Pole,
Sam Rivers,
the Bar-Kays,
The J.B.'s,
Brothers Johnson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kas Product,
D'Angelo,
Electric Prunes,
Bauhaus,
Pet Shop Boys,
Desert Stars,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Todd Terry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mandrill,
Icehouse,
The Stooges,
The Dead C,
One Last Wish,
Yazoo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Excepter,
The Moleskins,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.