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 Saudi Arabia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Banda Bassotti to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
This Heat,
Bang On A Can,
Amazonics,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Maleditus Sound,
Index,
Lightning Bolt,
Sandy B,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lalo Schifrin,
Godley & Creme,
The Dirtbombs,
Vladislav Delay,
John Holt,
Roy Ayers,
Fluxion,
Altered Images,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bronski Beat,
Hashim,
Sight & Sound,
X-101,
Barbara Tucker,
The Saints,
Alton Ellis,
Pulsallama,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fire Engines,
Joe Finger,
Aaron Thompson,
The Martian,
David McCallum,
Second Layer,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Unrelated Segments,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
La Düsseldorf,
Half Japanese,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roger Hodgson,
Dawn Penn,
the Human League,
Harry Pussy,
The Mummies,
Arcadia,
The Young Rascals,
Althea and Donna,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ten City,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Minutemen,
Brand Nubian,
Bizarre Inc.,
Clear Light,
The Walker Brothers,
Yellowson,
Derrick Morgan,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.