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 Maldives and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Buckinghams to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Kurtis Blow,
Accadde A,
Sight & Sound,
Rekid,
Rosa Yemen,
Malaria!,
The Shadows of Knight,
Q65,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kaleidoscope,
Soft Machine,
The Invisible,
Tres Demented,
Television Personalities,
Neu!,
Public Image Ltd.,
Morten Harket,
Derrick May,
Donald Byrd,
The Names,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fatback Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Outsiders,
Intrusion,
Erasure,
Bush Tetras,
John Cale,
Glenn Branca,
The Kinks,
Dennis Brown,
The Victims,
The Offenders,
The Cosmic Jokers,
June Days,
Toni Rubio,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Moebius,
Guru Guru,
the Slits,
The Selecter,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Divine Comedy,
The Cowsills,
Make Up,
Pierre Henry,
Cymande,
Charles Mingus,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Monks,
Chrome,
The Searchers,
The Red Krayola,
ABBA,
Bill Wells,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Wake,
Girls At Our Best!,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.