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 Iceland and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Clear Light to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tom Boy,
The Grass Roots,
Jacques Brel,
E-Dancer,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stockholm Monsters,
One Last Wish,
MC5,
New Order,
Barry Ungar,
The Sound,
Tears for Fears,
Funkadelic,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crispian St. Peters,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Average White Band,
Section 25,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lucky Dragons,
Drexciya,
Anthony Braxton,
MDC,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bobby Womack,
Stiv Bators,
Brick,
Con Funk Shun,
The J.B.'s,
The Saints,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deadbeat,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Byrd,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tubeway Army,
The Skatalites,
Blossom Toes,
CMW,
Rites of Spring,
Sight & Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marshall Jefferson,
Circle Jerks,
The Tremeloes,
Inner City,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scratch Acid,
China Crisis,
EPMD,
Qualms,
Groovy Waters,
48th St. Collective,
Laurel Aitken,
Albert Ayler,
The Blues Magoos,
Godley & Creme,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.