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 Turkmenistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Massinfluence to the rap 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dawn Penn,
Aural Exciters,
Little Man,
the Human League,
Derrick Morgan,
DJ Style,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Essential Logic,
Mary Jane Girls,
Clear Light,
Unrelated Segments,
Rakim,
The Young Rascals,
Bauhaus,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gun Club,
The Busters,
Eric Copeland,
Simply Red,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
MC5,
Fat Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Coltrane,
Gang Gang Dance,
Whodini,
The Pop Group,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott Heron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Arthur Verocai,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gang Starr,
Cal Tjader,
Delta 5,
the Soft Cell,
The Velvet Underground,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Severed Heads,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Kinks,
Stetsasonic,
Todd Rundgren,
Sexual Harrassment,
Quantec,
Basic Channel,
Oneida,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Wake,
Malaria!,
Henry Cow,
Deepchord,
Magazine,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pulsallama,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.