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 Spain and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 David Bowie 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 Excepter to the punk 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Mummies,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mad Mike,
Jimmy McGriff,
Deakin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dead Boys,
The Durutti Column,
Pet Shop Boys,
Half Japanese,
Adolescents,
Dawn Penn,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jesper Dahlback,
Judy Mowatt,
Nik Kershaw,
Donny Hathaway,
The Black Dice,
Lower 48,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeff Mills,
Public Image Ltd.,
Soulsonic Force,
The Neon Judgement,
Byron Stingily,
Deepchord,
Absolute Body Control,
Pylon,
Magma,
Y Pants,
Crime,
Archie Shepp,
Angry Samoans,
The Toasters,
Model 500,
Eden Ahbez,
The Walker Brothers,
Heaven 17,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wings,
Dorothy Ashby,
Monks,
The Move,
The Kinks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mary Jane Girls,
Swell Maps,
James White and The Blacks,
48th St. Collective,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Raincoats,
Connie Case,
Terry Callier,
Spandau Ballet,
Young Marble Giants,
Ornette Coleman,
Infiniti,
The J.B.'s,
Anthony Braxton,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.