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 Kosovo and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the grunge 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
The Blues Magoos,
Ohio Players,
The Leaves,
the Sonics,
Q and Not U,
F. McDonald,
the Human League,
Lightning Bolt,
Electric Prunes,
H. Thieme,
Eric Dolphy,
Connie Case,
Colin Newman,
Swans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Loose Ends,
Juan Atkins,
KRS-One,
Sandy B,
Aswad,
T. Rex,
Circle Jerks,
The Associates,
Tim Buckley,
Severed Heads,
Albert Ayler,
Jeff Lynne,
Guru Guru,
Funkadelic,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Blake Baxter,
Absolute Body Control,
Morten Harket,
Iggy Pop,
Joe Smooth,
Peter & Gordon,
Bob Dylan,
Crooked Eye,
The American Breed,
Harmonia,
Rhythm & Sound,
Masters at Work,
The Invisible,
Jeff Mills,
Piero Umiliani,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Subhumans,
X-Ray Spex,
Amon Düül II,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Parry Music,
Newcleus,
Terry Callier,
The Trojans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Judy Mowatt,
Brick,
Crispy Ambulance,
Freddie Wadling,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Fall,
Zero Boys,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.