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 Seychelles and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Spoonie Gee to the rap 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Standells,
Joyce Sims,
Davy DMX,
Henry Cow,
Dennis Brown,
kango's stein massive,
cv313,
Vainqueur,
Bobby Womack,
Accadde A,
The Slackers,
Spandau Ballet,
Andrew Hill,
Pole,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Don Cherry,
Flipper,
Soul II Soul,
Black Flag,
One Last Wish,
Lou Reed,
Hashim,
Eden Ahbez,
Barclay James Harvest,
Howard Jones,
The Wake,
Groovy Waters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
David McCallum,
Sex Pistols,
Kayak,
10cc,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chris & Cosey,
Boredoms,
48th St. Collective,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Royal Trux,
Pagans,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Gories,
The Searchers,
The Smoke,
Scratch Acid,
The Slits,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Sheep,
The Blues Magoos,
Circle Jerks,
Godley & Creme,
Altered Images,
Symarip,
Au Pairs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Delon & Dalcan,
T. Rex,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.