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 Nicaragua and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Chrome to the crunk 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nils Olav,
The Detroit Cobras,
Neil Young,
Con Funk Shun,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Suburban Knight,
Youth Brigade,
Howard Jones,
Duran Duran,
Aural Exciters,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Japan,
Amon Düül,
The Birthday Party,
Harry Pussy,
The Gories,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
June of 44,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roxy Music,
The Victims,
Grauzone,
The Searchers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Zapp,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joy Division,
Qualms,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Techniques,
Gichy Dan,
Lakeside,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Wake,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sällskapet,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smoke,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
David McCallum,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Grass Roots,
Iggy Pop,
Neu!,
Zero Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Judy Mowatt,
Wings,
The Trojans,
Kerri Chandler,
Sight & Sound,
The Gladiators,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.