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 Guyana and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Saints 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
The Toasters,
Mantronix,
Yellowson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Symarip,
Hashim,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Byrd,
Bronski Beat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cecil Taylor,
David Bowie,
Jawbox,
John Cale,
Minutemen,
Public Enemy,
Minor Threat,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joe Finger,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wasted Youth,
Darondo,
Organ,
Pantytec,
Robert Görl,
Toni Rubio,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crime,
Charles Mingus,
Robert Wyatt,
Jandek,
The Sound,
Arthur Verocai,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lungfish,
The Index,
Aswad,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pere Ubu,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Evens,
Morten Harket,
Swans,
Scan 7,
Glenn Branca,
Japan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Amon Düül II,
Tom Boy,
Suburban Knight,
A Certain Ratio,
Spandau Ballet,
KRS-One,
Cluster,
Yazoo,
Lyres,
10cc,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Offenders,
Suicide,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.