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 Belize and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
The Count Five,
The Fire Engines,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Television Personalities,
Goldenarms,
Soulsonic Force,
Smog,
Magazine,
the Germs,
Grey Daturas,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gap Band,
The Durutti Column,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Niagra,
Rod Modell,
Fat Boys,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Buzzcocks,
Crooked Eye,
June Days,
Urselle,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Slick Rick,
The Pretty Things,
Country Teasers,
Loose Ends,
H. Thieme,
John Coltrane,
the Bar-Kays,
Pantytec,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bad Manners,
Deepchord,
DNA,
Sun Ra,
Magma,
Minny Pops,
Desert Stars,
Leonard Cohen,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dirtbombs,
The Moody Blues,
Symarip,
R.M.O.,
Electric Prunes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aloha Tigers,
Marine Girls,
Q65,
The Busters,
Funky Four + One,
The Fugs,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Golliwogs,
Anakelly,
Jandek,
Fugazi,
Todd Terry,
Y Pants,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.