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 Algeria and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 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 Archie Shepp to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
The Real Kids,
Al Stewart,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dave Gahan,
June of 44,
Fat Boys,
Bobby Byrd,
Minny Pops,
Panda Bear,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Sonics,
Outsiders,
In Retrospect,
The Selecter,
Fugazi,
Subhumans,
Peter & Gordon,
Tears for Fears,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arab on Radar,
Technova,
Eurythmics,
Underground Resistance,
Liliput,
Max Romeo,
Man Parrish,
The Young Rascals,
The Doobie Brothers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Easy Going,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sparks,
The Beau Brummels,
Anthony Braxton,
Intrusion,
10cc,
Fela Kuti,
The Victims,
Magma,
The Angels of Light,
Young Marble Giants,
Crooked Eye,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sixth Finger,
Siglo XX,
Amon Düül II,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jesper Dahlback,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Soulsonic Force,
The Slits,
The Divine Comedy,
KRS-One,
This Heat,
Pussy Galore,
Joey Negro,
Lyres,
Moebius,
Ornette Coleman,
Rhythm & Sound,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.