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 Sweden and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 mellotron 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
U.S. Maple,
Tom Boy,
F. McDonald,
Black Pus,
Ituana,
Soul II Soul,
B.T. Express,
The Divine Comedy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Franke,
Rod Modell,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rekid,
China Crisis,
Scion,
Todd Terry,
Technova,
Piero Umiliani,
R.M.O.,
Amon Düül II,
Kenny Larkin,
Flipper,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fluxion,
Janne Schatter,
Arab on Radar,
Animal Collective,
Howard Jones,
Morten Harket,
Magma,
Lyres,
Visage,
The Electric Prunes,
Chris & Cosey,
Television,
Wings,
Roger Hodgson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Matthew Bourne,
LL Cool J,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The American Breed,
Skaos,
Model 500,
Fat Boys,
Skriet,
Bobby Byrd,
Ken Boothe,
The Grass Roots,
Drexciya,
Bluetip,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pagans,
Sandy B,
Barrington Levy,
The Index,
Wolf Eyes,
The J.B.'s,
Thompson Twins,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.