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 Singapore and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 United States of America to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mandrill,
Harmonia,
Flash Fearless,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Erasure,
Nick Fraelich,
The Human League,
Robert Hood,
Grey Daturas,
Kerri Chandler,
Gang Starr,
This Heat,
Bill Wells,
The Vogues,
Inner City,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barrington Levy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jesper Dahlback,
New Age Steppers,
Eden Ahbez,
Robert Görl,
Rakim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minor Threat,
The Toasters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Susan Cadogan,
Robert Wyatt,
John Lydon,
Maleditus Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ossler,
Ken Boothe,
The Mojo Men,
The Stooges,
Tim Buckley,
Negative Approach,
Audionom,
The Names,
Moebius,
Popol Vuh,
K-Klass,
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Christie,
Bobby Womack,
Crispy Ambulance,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Pretty Things,
Groovy Waters,
The Fall,
Maurizio,
Ohio Players,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eurythmics,
Young Marble Giants,
Pere Ubu,
Roxette,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.