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 Solomon Islands and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Skatalites to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gang Starr,
The Cramps,
Von Mondo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minnie Riperton,
Fela Kuti,
The J.B.'s,
JFA,
Smog,
Aaron Thompson,
The Doors,
James White and The Blacks,
Hasil Adkins,
Boz Scaggs,
Second Layer,
Rites of Spring,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Bowie,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Pretty Things,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lindisfarne,
Harry Pussy,
Stereo Dub,
Barry Ungar,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lower 48,
The Last Poets,
Vladislav Delay,
Johnny Osbourne,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Subhumans,
The Blues Magoos,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Livin' Joy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rapeman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
R.M.O.,
Inner City,
Boredoms,
Henry Cow,
Stetsasonic,
Agitation Free,
The Red Krayola,
Blossom Toes,
Ultra Naté,
Cecil Taylor,
Slick Rick,
Technova,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Black Flag,
Darondo,
Gichy Dan,
Yellowson,
Bill Wells,
The Pop Group,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.