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 Taiwan and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 The Young Rascals to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Slave,
Sound Behaviour,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camberwell Now,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Essential Logic,
The Golliwogs,
James White and The Blacks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Johnny Osbourne,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Throbbing Gristle,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Monolake,
Sun Ra,
Graham Central Station,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ludus,
Eric Copeland,
Godley & Creme,
La Düsseldorf,
DJ Style,
Lyres,
Quantec,
Cecil Taylor,
Chrome,
Flash Fearless,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Severed Heads,
Yazoo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Icehouse,
Stereo Dub,
a-ha,
Faust,
Porter Ricks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jeff Lynne,
Judy Mowatt,
Jawbox,
Maurizio,
the Bar-Kays,
Lalann,
FM Einheit,
Wasted Youth,
The Misunderstood,
Cluster,
Rod Modell,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jeff Mills,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Magazine,
The Cowsills,
The Smoke,
Peter & Gordon,
Dark Day,
The Fuzztones,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.