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 Yemen and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe 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 Normal to the electroclash 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Von Mondo,
Black Pus,
The Misunderstood,
the Association,
Brick,
The Human League,
Arab on Radar,
Darondo,
Sixth Finger,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Angels of Light,
Fatback Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Sheep,
Ralphi Rosario,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Raincoats,
The Golliwogs,
Flash Fearless,
David Bowie,
Hot Snakes,
Gabor Szabo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Oneida,
U.S. Maple,
Warsaw,
Cecil Taylor,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rakim,
Lou Christie,
Sound Behaviour,
Pantaleimon,
Erasure,
Jeru the Damaja,
Franke,
Marmalade,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The J.B.'s,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Barry Ungar,
Dennis Brown,
Dark Day,
The Modern Lovers,
Skriet,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Arthur Verocai,
Accadde A,
Mantronix,
Sexual Harrassment,
One Last Wish,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Leonard Cohen,
Chrome,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ituana,
Bizarre Inc.,
Y Pants,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.