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 El Salvador and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Brick to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Terrestrial Tones,
Trumans Water,
The Red Krayola,
China Crisis,
The Martian,
Kenny Larkin,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Television,
Mandrill,
Brick,
Motorama,
Sam Rivers,
Letta Mbulu,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
MC5,
Cecil Taylor,
Severed Heads,
Brothers Johnson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jeff Lynne,
Warren Ellis,
The Fall,
Ronan,
Sixth Finger,
Make Up,
Michelle Simonal,
Crooked Eye,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barbara Tucker,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Leaves,
June Days,
Ken Boothe,
Wire,
Magma,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Average White Band,
The Real Kids,
Tears for Fears,
Lakeside,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jeru the Damaja,
Little Man,
Soul Sonic Force,
Barrington Levy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Main Source,
Subhumans,
Bush Tetras,
Stiv Bators,
Eric B and Rakim,
Max Romeo,
Lungfish,
Barclay James Harvest,
D'Angelo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ice-T,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.