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 India and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nas to the jazz 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Görl record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
The Real Kids,
Oblivians,
Lindisfarne,
Bush Tetras,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Standells,
Soul II Soul,
Supertramp,
Bang On A Can,
The Fortunes,
Rakim,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Zero Boys,
Mission of Burma,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Velvet Underground,
Don Cherry,
The Offenders,
Marc Almond,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Vladislav Delay,
Scientists,
Buzzcocks,
The Cure,
Surgeon,
Funky Four + One,
Stockholm Monsters,
L. Decosne,
The Slits,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultra Naté,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tomorrow,
Cheater Slicks,
The Remains,
Camouflage,
Laurel Aitken,
B.T. Express,
Television Personalities,
Sight & Sound,
The Blues Magoos,
John Holt,
Wolf Eyes,
the Normal,
John Coltrane,
The Pop Group,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eddi Front,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Reed,
The Dead C,
The Toasters,
Aaron Thompson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bronski Beat,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roxette,
Suburban Knight,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.