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 Paraguay and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron 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 Bobby Womack 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
The Searchers,
Maleditus Sound,
Neu!,
Heaven 17,
Darondo,
Interpol,
John Coltrane,
Traffic Nightmare,
Arcadia,
Banda Bassotti,
Joey Negro,
Deadbeat,
David Axelrod,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brand Nubian,
Main Source,
Alton Ellis,
Susan Cadogan,
Ornette Coleman,
Tears for Fears,
The Dead C,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Residents,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Suicide,
Delon & Dalcan,
Steve Hackett,
The Walker Brothers,
Brick,
UT,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Bananas,
Don Cherry,
Schoolly D,
FM Einheit,
Marvin Gaye,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Hashim,
Whodini,
John Holt,
MC5,
K-Klass,
Adolescents,
Eric Dolphy,
Stiv Bators,
Loose Ends,
The Move,
Glenn Branca,
Flipper,
Derrick Morgan,
Sarah Menescal,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Sound Behaviour,
Siglo XX,
Maurizio,
Pole,
The Kinks,
The Moleskins,
Black Sheep,
Roy Ayers,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.