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 Equatorial Guinea and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Index to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Kerri Chandler,
Metal Thangz,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Grass Roots,
Scratch Acid,
Television Personalities,
Khruangbin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Flamin' Groovies,
Slick Rick,
Sister Nancy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lucky Dragons,
Nick Fraelich,
Slave,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fela Kuti,
New Order,
Make Up,
Al Stewart,
Popol Vuh,
Bush Tetras,
Mo-Dettes,
Newcleus,
Talk Talk,
The Flesh Eaters,
Animal Collective,
Black Bananas,
The Beau Brummels,
Organ,
E-Dancer,
Drexciya,
Donald Byrd,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tropical Tobacco,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Morten Harket,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Flipper,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gang Green,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Swans,
Half Japanese,
The Fugs,
The Remains,
One Last Wish,
Black Moon,
Minutemen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Surgeon,
Idris Muhammad,
June Days,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Music Machine,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dave Gahan,
The Knickerbockers,
The Raincoats,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.