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 Burkina and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Lou Reed 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 Nick Fraelich to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Doors. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
the Sonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tomorrow,
Urselle,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang of Four,
Scan 7,
Charles Mingus,
Deepchord,
Slave,
Vladislav Delay,
Tom Boy,
The Pop Group,
Boogie Down Productions,
New Age Steppers,
The J.B.'s,
Max Romeo,
June of 44,
Porter Ricks,
Leonard Cohen,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mandrill,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The American Breed,
The Buckinghams,
Scientists,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Sherman,
Tres Demented,
Delon & Dalcan,
Monks,
Jeru the Damaja,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Moon,
Aural Exciters,
Barry Ungar,
Minny Pops,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Byrd,
Jimmy McGriff,
Camberwell Now,
Thee Headcoats,
Fat Boys,
Royal Trux,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bootsy Collins,
Q65,
Toni Rubio,
Easy Going,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pole,
Tommy Roe,
Sarah Menescal,
The Fuzztones,
Lee Hazlewood,
Neu!,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.