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 Yemen and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 Pantaleimon 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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
The Alarm Clocks,
Harmonia,
Derrick May,
Bill Wells,
The Sonics,
UT,
Pierre Henry,
Guru Guru,
Frankie Knuckles,
X-Ray Spex,
World's Most,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Toni Rubio,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Chrome,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Basic Channel,
Hasil Adkins,
Jacob Miller,
Amon Düül,
Marvin Gaye,
Youth Brigade,
The Star Department,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Dave Clark Five,
48th St. Collective,
Lower 48,
Rakim,
Josef K,
Ronnie Foster,
Shuggie Otis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lee Hazlewood,
CMW,
Lebanon Hanover,
Arab on Radar,
Saccharine Trust,
Idris Muhammad,
the Normal,
The Five Americans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Echospace,
Funkadelic,
Vladislav Delay,
the Bar-Kays,
Grandmaster Flash,
ABBA,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eddi Front,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Subhumans,
The Cowsills,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mad Mike,
Tres Demented,
Judy Mowatt,
Laurel Aitken,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.