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 Armenia and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Wasted Youth to the punk 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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
The Grass Roots,
June of 44,
The Monks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Cale,
Cecil Taylor,
Cybotron,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eddi Front,
Jawbox,
Arthur Verocai,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare,
The Slackers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dave Gahan,
Bad Manners,
Pulsallama,
Can,
John Lydon,
Adolescents,
Amon Düül II,
Roxette,
Bobby Sherman,
Bill Wells,
Flash Fearless,
Heaven 17,
Soft Machine,
Pole,
Thompson Twins,
Pantaleimon,
The Cramps,
The Searchers,
Technova,
Inner City,
Moby Grape,
The Trojans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wings,
Alison Limerick,
Deepchord,
Tom Boy,
Leonard Cohen,
The Mummies,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Young Rascals,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barbara Tucker,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Busters,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Franke,
Glambeats Corp.,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.