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 Bangladesh and from Jakarta.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 X-101 to the grime 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
The Cure,
Deakin,
Yusef Lateef,
The Invisible,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Don Cherry,
John Lydon,
Yazoo,
cv313,
Amon Düül,
Erasure,
Barrington Levy,
Unwound,
Brass Construction,
Ituana,
Archie Shepp,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rosa Yemen,
Judy Mowatt,
One Last Wish,
Lee Hazlewood,
Parry Music,
The Wake,
Davy DMX,
Gang Starr,
Kenny Larkin,
Amon Düül II,
Johnny Osbourne,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
U.S. Maple,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Procol Harum,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Offenders,
Gerry Rafferty,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
R.M.O.,
Scion,
Kerri Chandler,
Scientists,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Grass Roots,
Loose Ends,
Liliput,
Mr. Review,
Glenn Branca,
Sixth Finger,
the Normal,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nirvana,
Joy Division,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
T. Rex,
Tears for Fears,
Bootsy Collins,
World's Most,
The Count Five,
The Monks,
Con Funk Shun,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.