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 Moldova and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Donald Fagen 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 Brothers Johnson to the dance 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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
Grey Daturas,
Black Sheep,
Matthew Bourne,
The Stooges,
Amon Düül,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tubeway Army,
Kayak,
The Walker Brothers,
Joey Negro,
James White and The Blacks,
Crash Course in Science,
Motorama,
X-Ray Spex,
Minny Pops,
Fela Kuti,
Wire,
Gerry Rafferty,
Half Japanese,
Lyres,
Eden Ahbez,
The Techniques,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
It's A Beautiful Day,
John Coltrane,
Aloha Tigers,
Das Ding,
Infiniti,
Echospace,
Peter & Gordon,
Minor Threat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Smog,
Spoonie Gee,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roy Ayers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Almond,
The Saints,
Crispy Ambulance,
FM Einheit,
Technova,
Shoche,
Sarah Menescal,
Wasted Youth,
World's Most,
Panda Bear,
ABBA,
The Wake,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blake Baxter,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Audionom,
Ten City,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.