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 Slovakia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 guitar 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 Smoke to the grime 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Pus,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Amazonics,
Junior Murvin,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Seeds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bizarre Inc.,
Slick Rick,
DNA,
Joe Smooth,
The Residents,
Girls At Our Best!,
Michelle Simonal,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Blancmange,
Curtis Mayfield,
a-ha,
Alice Coltrane,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Mummies,
Man Parrish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wally Richardson,
The Zeros,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Selecter,
The Fall,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pussy Galore,
Eve St. Jones,
X-101,
Connie Case,
The Index,
Pet Shop Boys,
Judy Mowatt,
Radio Birdman,
Harpers Bizarre,
Loose Ends,
Man Eating Sloth,
Metal Thangz,
Scan 7,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mr. Review,
Jerry's Kids,
The Remains,
Gang Gang Dance,
Panda Bear,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
X-Ray Spex,
The Offenders,
The Blackbyrds,
Organ,
Oblivians,
The Dirtbombs,
Desert Stars,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.