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 Djibouti and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 snare 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 The Smiths to the rap 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Harry Pussy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Intrusion,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Niagra,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Dirtbombs,
Oblivians,
Arcadia,
Skriet,
The Names,
Q and Not U,
Essential Logic,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Byrd,
Zero Boys,
Procol Harum,
EPMD,
Ohio Players,
Eric B and Rakim,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Last Poets,
Public Enemy,
Dawn Penn,
Gong,
Cheater Slicks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Standells,
The J.B.'s,
Warsaw,
The Kinks,
Metal Thangz,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jawbox,
PIL,
Mo-Dettes,
Cluster,
Silicon Teens,
The Cure,
X-Ray Spex,
Deakin,
Banda Bassotti,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Skarface,
The Sonics,
June of 44,
Lakeside,
Simply Red,
The Sound,
CMW,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Roy Ayers,
The Star Department,
Blake Baxter,
Little Man,
Jacob Miller,
Spoonie Gee,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bootsy Collins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.