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 Kenya and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Duran Duran to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
This Heat,
Los Fastidios,
Circle Jerks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wire,
Donny Hathaway,
Kenny Larkin,
Guru Guru,
Pylon,
Adolescents,
Bush Tetras,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mojo Men,
Maurizio,
The Trojans,
Andrew Hill,
Fear,
Girls At Our Best!,
Infiniti,
Bobby Byrd,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Anthony Braxton,
the Fania All-Stars,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scion,
The Remains,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sandy B,
Kurtis Blow,
Funkadelic,
X-Ray Spex,
John Lydon,
Eli Mardock,
The Vogues,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jacques Brel,
Eric Copeland,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Residents,
Rod Modell,
Althea and Donna,
David Axelrod,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Delta 5,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bob Dylan,
Jerry's Kids,
Barbara Tucker,
Sparks,
The Durutti Column,
Yazoo,
Matthew Bourne,
Neu!,
the Bar-Kays,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minnie Riperton,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.