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 Belgium and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 David Bowie to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
The Remains,
The Music Machine,
Half Japanese,
Audionom,
Soulsonic Force,
Fatback Band,
Sällskapet,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Judy Mowatt,
Black Sheep,
Babytalk,
Shoche,
Reagan Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Second Layer,
Urselle,
Das Ding,
Minutemen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Robert Görl,
The Residents,
Soft Machine,
Theoretical Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
June Days,
Arcadia,
Nas,
Girls At Our Best!,
Excepter,
Cameo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultra Naté,
Camberwell Now,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tubeway Army,
Tropical Tobacco,
Heaven 17,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gun Club,
Bob Dylan,
Joy Division,
Alison Limerick,
DNA,
Rakim,
The Monks,
Spoonie Gee,
Sight & Sound,
The Mojo Men,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Little Man,
Visage,
Darondo,
Outsiders,
New Order,
Neu!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fall,
Symarip,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.