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 Kazakhstan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
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 arpeggiator 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 Roger Hodgson to the rap 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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Monks,
Das Ding,
The Real Kids,
Grey Daturas,
Dead Boys,
A Certain Ratio,
Crime,
Supertramp,
Spandau Ballet,
The Beau Brummels,
Suburban Knight,
Drive Like Jehu,
Panda Bear,
Mission of Burma,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barbara Tucker,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultimate Spinach,
Radiopuhelimet,
Agitation Free,
Skarface,
Roy Ayers,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Normal,
R.M.O.,
Gang Green,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fall,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Standells,
New Age Steppers,
Blossom Toes,
Electric Prunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Television,
The Busters,
Accadde A,
cv313,
The Residents,
Country Teasers,
Section 25,
Jawbox,
Traffic Nightmare,
Neu!,
Derrick May,
Funkadelic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Idris Muhammad,
KRS-One,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Can,
John Holt,
Ken Boothe,
Blancmange,
Ohio Players,
DJ Sneak,
Cameo,
Public Enemy,
Robert Hood,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.