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 Belarus and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Quando Quango to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
June Days,
Brass Construction,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Connie Case,
Sister Nancy,
Khruangbin,
The Fall,
Cheater Slicks,
Pulsallama,
Piero Umiliani,
Hot Snakes,
Agent Orange,
The Gories,
The Associates,
Glenn Branca,
H. Thieme,
Cameo,
The Star Department,
Mad Mike,
Todd Rundgren,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Stooges,
The Sonics,
Mo-Dettes,
Janne Schatter,
the Normal,
David McCallum,
the Germs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Easy Going,
Young Marble Giants,
Josef K,
Sexual Harrassment,
Steve Hackett,
Avey Tare,
Black Bananas,
Massinfluence,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cecil Taylor,
Talk Talk,
Man Parrish,
Sugar Minott,
The Walker Brothers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Simply Red,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sixth Finger,
The Fortunes,
Black Flag,
Outsiders,
Silicon Teens,
Kaleidoscope,
Deakin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.