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 Comoros and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ 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 kango's stein massive to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Second Layer,
Don Cherry,
Hoover,
Pulsallama,
Parry Music,
Junior Murvin,
David McCallum,
Altered Images,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jacques Brel,
AZ,
The Moody Blues,
Guru Guru,
Pole,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Qualms,
Theoretical Girls,
CMW,
The Black Dice,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Cowsills,
Robert Hood,
Dark Day,
Television Personalities,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dawn Penn,
DJ Style,
Agent Orange,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Shoche,
Eric Copeland,
Porter Ricks,
Lucky Dragons,
Quadrant,
Fad Gadget,
The Neon Judgement,
Gong,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Saccharine Trust,
Piero Umiliani,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kurtis Blow,
Crooked Eye,
Byron Stingily,
Sam Rivers,
U.S. Maple,
Royal Trux,
Tim Buckley,
Marmalade,
Rites of Spring,
OOIOO,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Ponytail,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Radio Birdman,
X-Ray Spex,
Man Parrish,
Sugar Minott,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.