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 Turkey and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet 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 Guru Guru to the disco 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Blake Baxter,
Slick Rick,
Cybotron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Selecter,
Gong,
Sparks,
Brand Nubian,
The Dirtbombs,
Qualms,
Bootsy Collins,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Barrington Levy,
Camberwell Now,
Grey Daturas,
Idris Muhammad,
June Days,
The Golliwogs,
The Remains,
Eden Ahbez,
Roxy Music,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lindisfarne,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Mummies,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Yellowson,
Masters at Work,
Circle Jerks,
Silicon Teens,
Oblivians,
Big Daddy Kane,
Harpers Bizarre,
KRS-One,
The Gun Club,
Quadrant,
The Gories,
Massinfluence,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Wake,
Intrusion,
DNA,
Junior Murvin,
CMW,
Flipper,
Joe Smooth,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eddi Front,
Royal Trux,
The Walker Brothers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Dave Clark Five,
Colin Newman,
John Coltrane,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sun City Girls,
Wasted Youth,
The Sound,
The Birthday Party,
Juan Atkins,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.