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 Indonesia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Brand Nubian to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wings,
Ponytail,
Camouflage,
Pere Ubu,
Donald Byrd,
The Human League,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Saints,
John Holt,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sixth Finger,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bush Tetras,
Monks,
Visage,
Y Pants,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Pus,
MDC,
Morten Harket,
Iggy Pop,
E-Dancer,
Intrusion,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dawn Penn,
Tom Boy,
The Gories,
Kas Product,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fear,
Jawbox,
Warren Ellis,
Dual Sessions,
The Red Krayola,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Howard Jones,
A Certain Ratio,
Eric Dolphy,
Smog,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Radiohead,
Carl Craig,
Lakeside,
Spoonie Gee,
Aural Exciters,
Stiv Bators,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nico,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joey Negro,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fluxion,
DJ Style,
the Swans,
Ice-T,
The Skatalites,
Moss Icon,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.