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 Dominican Republic and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nation of Ulysses,
Siglo XX,
Brass Construction,
Sparks,
Rod Modell,
Ultravox,
X-Ray Spex,
Andrew Hill,
Blossom Toes,
Pierre Henry,
Althea and Donna,
Schoolly D,
Bluetip,
Gang Gang Dance,
Country Teasers,
The Golliwogs,
The Mojo Men,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eli Mardock,
R.M.O.,
The J.B.'s,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joey Negro,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
David Axelrod,
The Grass Roots,
Easy Going,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sonny Sharrock,
Y Pants,
Anthony Braxton,
Moss Icon,
Agent Orange,
Pere Ubu,
Gichy Dan,
The Techniques,
Steve Hackett,
Joy Division,
The American Breed,
the Germs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Angry Samoans,
Sällskapet,
a-ha,
Derrick May,
Throbbing Gristle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Radiopuhelimet,
Unrelated Segments,
Mantronix,
Sister Nancy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Tremeloes,
Joyce Sims,
Sonic Youth,
LL Cool J,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Michelle Simonal,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.