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 Nigeria and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
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 harpsichord 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Little Man,
Quando Quango,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Roger Hodgson,
Brick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Aswad,
Howard Jones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Terry Callier,
The Human League,
the Bar-Kays,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sister Nancy,
Dennis Brown,
Talk Talk,
Stiv Bators,
Moby Grape,
Inner City,
Jacques Brel,
MC5,
Yaz,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Monks,
Sällskapet,
Royal Trux,
Pierre Henry,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Sound,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Green,
Cal Tjader,
Bobby Womack,
Radiopuhelimet,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Gladiators,
Sixth Finger,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ice-T,
The Barracudas,
Intrusion,
Pussy Galore,
Thee Headcoats,
The Zeros,
The Velvet Underground,
PIL,
Panda Bear,
Mantronix,
Shuggie Otis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Procol Harum,
the Sonics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crime,
Accadde A,
Sam Rivers,
Los Fastidios,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.