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 Sri Lanka and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin 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 Barclay James Harvest to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Freddie Wadling,
Fatback Band,
Harry Pussy,
The Gun Club,
Surgeon,
Harmonia,
Derrick Morgan,
The Pretty Things,
Negative Approach,
Los Fastidios,
The Offenders,
Grey Daturas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Fania All-Stars,
Moebius,
Organ,
Banda Bassotti,
Gang Green,
Hasil Adkins,
Howard Jones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wolf Eyes,
The Neon Judgement,
The Evens,
the Germs,
Peter & Gordon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Index,
Funky Four + One,
Deakin,
Brand Nubian,
Excepter,
Todd Terry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marmalade,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barrington Levy,
L. Decosne,
Hashim,
Soft Machine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Count Five,
Donny Hathaway,
Bad Manners,
Radiopuhelimet,
Roy Ayers,
Rites of Spring,
Chrome,
Stiv Bators,
Rod Modell,
Roger Hodgson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kenny Larkin,
Junior Murvin,
E-Dancer,
Yusef Lateef,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Easy Going,
Crash Course in Science,
Rhythm & Sound,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.