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 Costa Rica and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar 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 Althea and Donna to the grime 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
a-ha,
The Cramps,
Agitation Free,
James White and The Blacks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Popol Vuh,
Index,
E-Dancer,
DNA,
The Pretty Things,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Silicon Teens,
Buzzcocks,
Pere Ubu,
Amon Düül II,
The Count Five,
Siglo XX,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Steve Hackett,
the Germs,
The Gun Club,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wolf Eyes,
The Move,
Aswad,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ponytail,
Procol Harum,
Kaleidoscope,
The Knickerbockers,
Kas Product,
Robert Wyatt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Peter & Gordon,
Byron Stingily,
Delta 5,
DJ Style,
Lakeside,
June Days,
The Beau Brummels,
Minny Pops,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crash Course in Science,
The Birthday Party,
Deepchord,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fugazi,
Fatback Band,
Jawbox,
The Victims,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ossler,
Todd Terry,
Fad Gadget,
Ultravox,
Mary Jane Girls,
Au Pairs,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.