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 Botswana and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pylon to the crunk 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sound Behaviour,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pantytec,
The Remains,
Byron Stingily,
Letta Mbulu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Second Layer,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terry Callier,
Severed Heads,
The Techniques,
Procol Harum,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Funkadelic,
Rekid,
Scion,
This Heat,
Judy Mowatt,
Donny Hathaway,
Bluetip,
Buzzcocks,
Fugazi,
World's Most,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Pus,
Josef K,
June of 44,
Quando Quango,
Pantaleimon,
DJ Style,
the Normal,
Al Stewart,
Royal Trux,
Robert Görl,
The Invisible,
Qualms,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bizarre Inc.,
David Bowie,
Barrington Levy,
Grauzone,
Bad Manners,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Association,
48th St. Collective,
The Raincoats,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Motions,
Carl Craig,
Amazonics,
Marc Almond,
Deadbeat,
Can,
The Offenders,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.