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 Oman and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 organ 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 Rosa Yemen to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Erykah Badu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soft Machine,
Television,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Severed Heads,
The Gap Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Pus,
Pere Ubu,
Trumans Water,
Gabor Szabo,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pagans,
Gong,
Crispian St. Peters,
Shuggie Otis,
Wings,
The J.B.'s,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eric Copeland,
Scion,
Sexual Harrassment,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Can,
Aaron Thompson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Livin' Joy,
MDC,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fortunes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Funkadelic,
The Flesh Eaters,
Andrew Hill,
Ronan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Slick Rick,
Massinfluence,
John Foxx,
Absolute Body Control,
Byron Stingily,
The Stooges,
The Beau Brummels,
Alice Coltrane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tim Buckley,
The Walker Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
Delta 5,
Drive Like Jehu,
Brass Construction,
Stiv Bators,
Con Funk Shun,
Barbara Tucker,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.