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 Benin and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 güiro 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 The Standells to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas 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?
Saccharine Trust,
Connie Case,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Can,
This Heat,
Stetsasonic,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
James White and The Blacks,
Gabor Szabo,
Junior Murvin,
Goldenarms,
Pussy Galore,
48th St. Collective,
The Velvet Underground,
Lalann,
Babytalk,
Donny Hathaway,
Marmalade,
The Litter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marc Almond,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sandy B,
Khruangbin,
Hasil Adkins,
Lyres,
Nirvana,
Roxette,
Radiohead,
The Invisible,
Ludus,
The Birthday Party,
The Mojo Men,
China Crisis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Searchers,
The Black Dice,
Half Japanese,
Arcadia,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Buzzcocks,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Toasters,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Trojans,
Sam Rivers,
Loose Ends,
Dave Gahan,
The Beau Brummels,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crash Course in Science,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Vogues,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Move,
The Smoke,
Boredoms,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.