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 Azerbaijan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eric B and Rakim to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Robert Hood,
Drexciya,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eurythmics,
Man Parrish,
LL Cool J,
Infiniti,
Kerrie Biddell,
R.M.O.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pussy Galore,
The Smiths,
The Blackbyrds,
Severed Heads,
Echospace,
Marine Girls,
Connie Case,
Quantec,
The Seeds,
MDC,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wasted Youth,
Alton Ellis,
48th St. Collective,
Marvin Gaye,
Public Enemy,
David McCallum,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Schoolly D,
ABBA,
Kurtis Blow,
The Pop Group,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jeff Lynne,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gil Scott Heron,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scan 7,
ABC,
Das Ding,
Erykah Badu,
Swans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Boredoms,
Aloha Tigers,
Electric Prunes,
E-Dancer,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Standells,
The Angels of Light,
Hasil Adkins,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Symarip,
Ten City,
Roxy Music,
Outsiders,
Ossler,
John Cale,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.