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 Afghanistan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Black Bananas to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Connie Case,
Faust,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Barracudas,
Cluster,
Peter & Gordon,
Sun Ra,
Sun City Girls,
Todd Rundgren,
Monolake,
The Blues Magoos,
Scientists,
Lou Christie,
The Smiths,
Second Layer,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aswad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Gun Club,
The Slackers,
Howard Jones,
Slave,
The Mummies,
Unrelated Segments,
The J.B.'s,
New York Dolls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Althea and Donna,
Crooked Eye,
The Toasters,
Skriet,
Siglo XX,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Womack,
Sparks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Franke,
Chrome,
Heaven 17,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bobbi Humphrey,
La Düsseldorf,
Colin Newman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gregory Isaacs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Black Pus,
Marc Almond,
Dual Sessions,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fuzztones,
Make Up,
David Axelrod,
the Swans,
The Selecter,
Visage,
Fad Gadget,
Lalann,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.