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 Argentina 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Siglo XX to the punk 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Electric Prunes,
The Martian,
The Knickerbockers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Whodini,
Drexciya,
Soulsonic Force,
The Invisible,
Ten City,
Rufus Thomas,
The Skatalites,
Bush Tetras,
Gang of Four,
Albert Ayler,
Blossom Toes,
Max Romeo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Johnny Clarke,
Donny Hathaway,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scott Walker,
Skaos,
Marvin Gaye,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wally Richardson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Hasil Adkins,
Charles Mingus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mars,
Agitation Free,
Slave,
Banda Bassotti,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rekid,
The Busters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Heaven 17,
Procol Harum,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Human League,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mo-Dettes,
Yaz,
The Mighty Diamonds,
ABBA,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Laurel Aitken,
Infiniti,
Mr. Review,
Loose Ends,
Lungfish,
Aaron Thompson,
Robert Wyatt,
Eli Mardock,
Second Layer,
Crispy Ambulance,
Harry Pussy,
The Names,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.