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 Bahamas and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Black Pus to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Black Moon,
ABBA,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dennis Brown,
Quando Quango,
Rakim,
Tomorrow,
Rhythm & Sound,
This Heat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Stereo Dub,
Los Fastidios,
The Searchers,
Eric Copeland,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Leaves,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Slave,
KRS-One,
Leonard Cohen,
The Modern Lovers,
Aaron Thompson,
The Names,
Sister Nancy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Neil Young,
Thompson Twins,
Glambeats Corp.,
MC5,
Soft Cell,
Nico,
Patti Smith,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gabor Szabo,
The Mummies,
Grandmaster Flash,
Maurizio,
Robert Hood,
Magazine,
Man Parrish,
Pharoah Sanders,
Make Up,
Curtis Mayfield,
Graham Central Station,
DNA,
Barry Ungar,
Heaven 17,
Sixth Finger,
Pantaleimon,
The Music Machine,
Livin' Joy,
Kaleidoscope,
Average White Band,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.