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 Macedonia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Golliwogs to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Scion,
Saccharine Trust,
The Last Poets,
Yellowson,
Moss Icon,
Organ,
kango's stein massive,
Sister Nancy,
Eurythmics,
Talk Talk,
Animal Collective,
Eden Ahbez,
Kayak,
The Martian,
Aswad,
Brothers Johnson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ornette Coleman,
D'Angelo,
Symarip,
Fat Boys,
Excepter,
Sugar Minott,
Todd Rundgren,
Mark Hollis,
Ohio Players,
Banda Bassotti,
Moebius,
Altered Images,
Mandrill,
The Associates,
Heaven 17,
Idris Muhammad,
The Durutti Column,
Newcleus,
The Tremeloes,
John Lydon,
The Victims,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gastr Del Sol,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cure,
The Move,
Japan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ossler,
Arab on Radar,
Gang of Four,
David Bowie,
Au Pairs,
Erasure,
the Sonics,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Depeche Mode,
Althea and Donna,
Avey Tare,
Stereo Dub,
Bill Near,
Circle Jerks,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.