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 Mongolia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 David Bowie 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 The Skatalites to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Eden Ahbez,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bad Manners,
Blancmange,
Aural Exciters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Chrome,
Smog,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Au Pairs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Groovy Waters,
Khruangbin,
Pylon,
Qualms,
Letta Mbulu,
Ralphi Rosario,
Intrusion,
Joy Division,
Rhythm & Sound,
Hardrive,
Essential Logic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scientists,
The Smoke,
June Days,
The Zeros,
Grauzone,
The Toasters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Yellowson,
Barbara Tucker,
The Blackbyrds,
CMW,
The Skatalites,
Eric Dolphy,
Suicide,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dawn Penn,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alphaville,
Josef K,
Animal Collective,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marine Girls,
Sällskapet,
The Wake,
Radiopuhelimet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Todd Terry,
B.T. Express,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.