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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Hasil Adkins to the dance 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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
AZ,
Agent Orange,
Swans,
Thompson Twins,
Black Bananas,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Association,
Q and Not U,
Excepter,
Ken Boothe,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ossler,
Barry Ungar,
Bang On A Can,
PIL,
Hoover,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neu!,
EPMD,
Mr. Review,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kayak,
MDC,
Half Japanese,
The J.B.'s,
Isaac Hayes,
Thee Headcoats,
The Selecter,
Ralphi Rosario,
Derrick Morgan,
Pylon,
Qualms,
Ultravox,
Dennis Brown,
The Detroit Cobras,
Electric Prunes,
Supertramp,
Blancmange,
Absolute Body Control,
The Durutti Column,
The Five Americans,
John Cale,
Gang Green,
the Fania All-Stars,
Letta Mbulu,
Shuggie Otis,
Subhumans,
The Searchers,
The Slits,
Bauhaus,
Franke,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tom Boy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Grauzone,
F. McDonald,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.