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 Kuwait and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 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 Rod Modell to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Searchers,
X-Ray Spex,
48th St. Collective,
Newcleus,
Television Personalities,
Thee Headcoats,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Severed Heads,
The Litter,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bad Manners,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Alarm Clocks,
Glenn Branca,
The Wake,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ultravox,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dark Day,
Ronnie Foster,
Moby Grape,
The Martian,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cybotron,
Young Marble Giants,
Simply Red,
Clear Light,
Goldenarms,
Easy Going,
Crooked Eye,
Boredoms,
Negative Approach,
Bizarre Inc.,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rekid,
Depeche Mode,
Zapp,
Andrew Hill,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Fugs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Skaos,
The Move,
Blake Baxter,
Inner City,
Joensuu 1685,
Roger Hodgson,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Red Krayola,
Amon Düül,
Howard Jones,
Bill Wells,
Theoretical Girls,
X-101,
U.S. Maple,
The Grass Roots,
The New Christs,
Nils Olav,
Josef K,
In Retrospect,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.