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 Nicaragua and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Wally Richardson to the disco 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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Blancmange,
Harry Pussy,
Slave,
Don Cherry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Fluxion,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
PIL,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Unrelated Segments,
The Smiths,
Kas Product,
Urselle,
Country Teasers,
Robert Görl,
Scrapy,
the Swans,
The Slackers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Buzzcocks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Qualms,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
David McCallum,
The Alarm Clocks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Yazoo,
Skaos,
Q and Not U,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Reuben Wilson,
Moss Icon,
D'Angelo,
Marmalade,
Dawn Penn,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Monks,
Supertramp,
Yellowson,
Amon Düül II,
Gong,
Circle Jerks,
The Walker Brothers,
Sarah Menescal,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Saints,
Eden Ahbez,
Althea and Donna,
Camouflage,
Albert Ayler,
Frankie Knuckles,
A Flock of Seagulls,
E-Dancer,
Black Sheep,
Silicon Teens,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Association,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.