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 Bhutan and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 mellotron 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 These Immortal Souls to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Royal Trux,
The Five Americans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Adolescents,
The Beau Brummels,
The American Breed,
Flash Fearless,
Angry Samoans,
Spandau Ballet,
Eurythmics,
Man Parrish,
Dorothy Ashby,
Godley & Creme,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Swell Maps,
The Fuzztones,
K-Klass,
the Sonics,
The Slackers,
Arab on Radar,
Lightning Bolt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Young Marble Giants,
Heaven 17,
Bad Manners,
June of 44,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Arthur Verocai,
Zero Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Wyatt,
This Heat,
Vladislav Delay,
Grauzone,
Jerry's Kids,
John Cale,
Smog,
Leonard Cohen,
Barbara Tucker,
Pet Shop Boys,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Brass Construction,
Morten Harket,
Saccharine Trust,
Public Enemy,
Underground Resistance,
Lindisfarne,
The Trojans,
Nas,
Cluster,
Chrome,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Thee Headcoats,
Fear,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mojo Men,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ornette Coleman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Silicon Teens,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.