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 Egypt and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 snare 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 Sun Ra to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Von Mondo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Saccharine Trust,
Metal Thangz,
The Gladiators,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Music Machine,
Marine Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joy Division,
Dark Day,
Smog,
Bang On A Can,
Monks,
The Slackers,
Easy Going,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ituana,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
F. McDonald,
The Litter,
OOIOO,
Davy DMX,
Aswad,
Camberwell Now,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Theoretical Girls,
Lightning Bolt,
B.T. Express,
Pantaleimon,
KRS-One,
Gang Gang Dance,
Zapp,
Bobbi Humphrey,
FM Einheit,
Reuben Wilson,
X-102,
The Walker Brothers,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Human League,
Fluxion,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rhythm & Sound,
T.S.O.L.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bush Tetras,
The Cramps,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Invisible,
David Axelrod,
The Fall,
Wire,
Judy Mowatt,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Suicide,
Massinfluence,
Piero Umiliani,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Five Americans,
Minnie Riperton,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roger Hodgson,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.