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 Kiribati and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Godley & Creme to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Ronnie Foster,
Tubeway Army,
Kas Product,
Ice-T,
Fela Kuti,
The J.B.'s,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Henry Cow,
The Saints,
The Slackers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Duran Duran,
Brick,
Minutemen,
Dark Day,
Joey Negro,
Underground Resistance,
Gichy Dan,
Pagans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
E-Dancer,
Arab on Radar,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Red Krayola,
Slick Rick,
Motorama,
The Tremeloes,
Simply Red,
Kool Moe Dee,
Von Mondo,
Animal Collective,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The American Breed,
Camouflage,
Joe Smooth,
Todd Terry,
The Cure,
Young Marble Giants,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Alphaville,
Jacob Miller,
Carl Craig,
Alice Coltrane,
Jimmy McGriff,
David Bowie,
Morten Harket,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Spandau Ballet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tom Boy,
Can,
Connie Case,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gong,
Moby Grape,
Crime,
Donny Hathaway,
Man Parrish,
Loose Ends,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.