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 Uruguay and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord 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 Whodini to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
The Blues Magoos,
kango's stein massive,
Gong,
Nas,
The Searchers,
Camberwell Now,
Monolake,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Reuben Wilson,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Womack,
Tim Buckley,
The Fortunes,
Surgeon,
Erasure,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Peter and Kerry,
Robert Hood,
Gang of Four,
Shoche,
Kenny Larkin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Metal Thangz,
Kas Product,
Marine Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Faraquet,
Tres Demented,
Eurythmics,
Joensuu 1685,
Procol Harum,
Girls At Our Best!,
Talk Talk,
U.S. Maple,
Country Teasers,
Faust,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Moby Grape,
Black Pus,
Cymande,
Radio Birdman,
Parry Music,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Vainqueur,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jacques Brel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Martian,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Wyatt,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Roger Hodgson,
The American Breed,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.