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 Turkey and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sex Pistols to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Zero Boys,
ABC,
Eric Dolphy,
Lyres,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Real Kids,
Audionom,
Tears for Fears,
D'Angelo,
Moebius,
Joey Negro,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bad Manners,
Quando Quango,
John Coltrane,
Infiniti,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terry Callier,
The Names,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Seeds,
Unwound,
Soul II Soul,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Fat Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Red Krayola,
Donald Byrd,
Thompson Twins,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Raincoats,
Alison Limerick,
Toni Rubio,
Lungfish,
Kurtis Blow,
Y Pants,
The Fall,
Soft Cell,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
Anakelly,
Laurel Aitken,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Last Poets,
DNA,
Hoover,
Theoretical Girls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Davy DMX,
The Remains,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Victims,
The Fugs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cheater Slicks,
Todd Terry,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.