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 Equatorial Guinea and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe 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 One Last Wish to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Darondo 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 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Idris Muhammad,
Rites of Spring,
Gang Starr,
Scratch Acid,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Aaron Thompson,
Lakeside,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sun Ra,
Curtis Mayfield,
Talk Talk,
Goldenarms,
Duran Duran,
PIL,
Eve St. Jones,
Buzzcocks,
Audionom,
Soft Machine,
Blossom Toes,
Aural Exciters,
Scan 7,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Zeros,
Panda Bear,
Depeche Mode,
Mad Mike,
Susan Cadogan,
Stetsasonic,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roxy Music,
Nils Olav,
Half Japanese,
Gang Green,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ponytail,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Spandau Ballet,
Graham Central Station,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Barracudas,
Howard Jones,
Pere Ubu,
cv313,
Excepter,
Ohio Players,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bobby Womack,
Al Stewart,
Sex Pistols,
K-Klass,
The Flesh Eaters,
Man Eating Sloth,
OOIOO,
Crime,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Chris Corsano,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.