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 Guinea-Bissau and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Circle Jerks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Swell Maps,
Tom Boy,
Boz Scaggs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Faraquet,
Roxette,
The Fortunes,
Aswad,
Brothers Johnson,
Icehouse,
The Fire Engines,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Moby Grape,
The Seeds,
The Moody Blues,
Oblivians,
Neil Young,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bauhaus,
X-102,
Stereo Dub,
Shoche,
Jacques Brel,
The Fugs,
Roger Hodgson,
the Bar-Kays,
Throbbing Gristle,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Franke,
Prince Buster,
X-101,
Dave Gahan,
Slave,
Dual Sessions,
Malaria!,
The Buckinghams,
John Coltrane,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Zero Boys,
Motorama,
Con Funk Shun,
Talk Talk,
Soul II Soul,
Country Teasers,
Black Moon,
Cecil Taylor,
Little Man,
Andrew Hill,
John Cale,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
H. Thieme,
The Wake,
Quadrant,
This Heat,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tim Buckley,
Sun Ra,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Dead C,
The Monks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.