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 Bulgaria and from New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lebanon Hanover to the funk 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cybotron,
The Mummies,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Avey Tare,
Livin' Joy,
Byron Stingily,
Lebanon Hanover,
Oneida,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bill Near,
Pagans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Spoonie Gee,
Little Man,
Zapp,
Gichy Dan,
New Age Steppers,
Chris Corsano,
The Walker Brothers,
Amon Düül,
Scan 7,
Fort Wilson Riot,
This Heat,
Tomorrow,
Chrome,
Echospace,
Tubeway Army,
K-Klass,
The Beau Brummels,
Camberwell Now,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Monks,
Jacques Brel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Funky Four + One,
Albert Ayler,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Drexciya,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kurtis Blow,
Eric Dolphy,
Skarface,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Moss Icon,
John Holt,
Alton Ellis,
the Sonics,
B.T. Express,
Young Marble Giants,
John Cale,
Stiv Bators,
the Bar-Kays,
Minor Threat,
The Offenders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.