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 Taiwan and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Columbus.
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 Nile Rodgers 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 The Cowsills to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
a-ha,
The Angels of Light,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Swans,
Jandek,
Mantronix,
The Zeros,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobby Byrd,
Ultimate Spinach,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sällskapet,
Ponytail,
Accadde A,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Evens,
Motorama,
Eric B and Rakim,
Shuggie Otis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jerry's Kids,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Harry Pussy,
The Fall,
Curtis Mayfield,
Barclay James Harvest,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ken Boothe,
AZ,
Jacques Brel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Subhumans,
Judy Mowatt,
PIL,
FM Einheit,
the Sonics,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Country Teasers,
David Axelrod,
The Fuzztones,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Oneida,
Scratch Acid,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jacob Miller,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rotary Connection,
X-102,
Saccharine Trust,
Audionom,
Monks,
Scion,
The Slackers,
Groovy Waters,
The Techniques,
the Soft Cell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.