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 Botswana and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator 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 The Saints to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Sister Nancy,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Sound,
Intrusion,
Pierre Henry,
Drexciya,
Moss Icon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Neu!,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Radiohead,
Steve Hackett,
Trumans Water,
Donald Byrd,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lungfish,
Pantaleimon,
Gang Starr,
MDC,
Boz Scaggs,
John Lydon,
These Immortal Souls,
The Walker Brothers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bad Manners,
Schoolly D,
Mad Mike,
Nils Olav,
DNA,
the Normal,
Joy Division,
Alphaville,
Oneida,
Rosa Yemen,
Danielle Patucci,
Motorama,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Slackers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
L. Decosne,
Unwound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ultra Naté,
AZ,
This Heat,
Angry Samoans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Outsiders,
Make Up,
Fat Boys,
LL Cool J,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scan 7,
ABC,
Excepter,
Rapeman,
Maleditus Sound,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.