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 Botswana and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 The Tremeloes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Television Personalities,
X-Ray Spex,
T. Rex,
Zapp,
Sam Rivers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Urselle,
Gang Green,
Minor Threat,
Reagan Youth,
Bluetip,
Eden Ahbez,
Whodini,
Simply Red,
Siglo XX,
Albert Ayler,
The Flesh Eaters,
K-Klass,
The Wake,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Howard Jones,
The Stooges,
Sexual Harrassment,
Khruangbin,
F. McDonald,
Warren Ellis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Fire Engines,
Man Parrish,
Saccharine Trust,
Ornette Coleman,
Main Source,
R.M.O.,
Duran Duran,
Lebanon Hanover,
Model 500,
Unrelated Segments,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Hasil Adkins,
Chrome,
Mantronix,
Swell Maps,
Oblivians,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ohio Players,
Magazine,
The Buckinghams,
The Busters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Divine Comedy,
Animal Collective,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Quantec,
Curtis Mayfield,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.