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 Swaziland and from Seoul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb 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 Kevin Saunderson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Fela Kuti,
Marmalade,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lou Christie,
Jeru the Damaja,
Barry Ungar,
Steve Hackett,
Ken Boothe,
Moss Icon,
Vainqueur,
Alison Limerick,
Hoover,
The Black Dice,
the Normal,
Lyres,
Half Japanese,
Pagans,
Au Pairs,
Bad Manners,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Alice Coltrane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scrapy,
Joyce Sims,
Alton Ellis,
Agent Orange,
The Sonics,
Tom Boy,
Crash Course in Science,
The Shadows of Knight,
JFA,
Lower 48,
Fear,
John Holt,
Babytalk,
The Cowsills,
Andrew Hill,
Darondo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pet Shop Boys,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Gories,
Sixth Finger,
Gang Starr,
Grey Daturas,
Rosa Yemen,
E-Dancer,
Whodini,
Nick Fraelich,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
La Düsseldorf,
Glambeats Corp.,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Royal Trux,
Eve St. Jones,
Monolake,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.