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 Kyrgyzstan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba 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 James White and The Blacks to the rap 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Half Japanese,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Skarface,
Amon Düül,
Q65,
The Dirtbombs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gregory Isaacs,
H. Thieme,
Dave Gahan,
Max Romeo,
Audionom,
Eric Copeland,
Crash Course in Science,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Happenings,
Gong,
Joensuu 1685,
The Real Kids,
Stockholm Monsters,
Harry Pussy,
Faraquet,
Kayak,
Ituana,
Neil Young,
The Tremeloes,
CMW,
Can,
Dual Sessions,
The American Breed,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yaz,
Shoche,
Slave,
Minny Pops,
Boz Scaggs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Country Teasers,
Excepter,
a-ha,
X-102,
The Pretty Things,
Barclay James Harvest,
The New Christs,
Spandau Ballet,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Amon Düül II,
Babytalk,
Das Ding,
Popol Vuh,
New York Dolls,
Deakin,
8 Eyed Spy,
L. Decosne,
Cecil Taylor,
Connie Case,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nick Fraelich,
Scion,
Bobby Byrd,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.