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 Mali and from Mumbai.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Robert Palmer 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 Scan 7 to the techno 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
The Mummies,
Los Fastidios,
The Fire Engines,
Girls At Our Best!,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Vladislav Delay,
Royal Trux,
Franke,
Rites of Spring,
Public Enemy,
Matthew Halsall,
Leonard Cohen,
Ronnie Foster,
Audionom,
Skaos,
Bush Tetras,
Pierre Henry,
Wings,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
H. Thieme,
Interpol,
The Gap Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jerry's Kids,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Harmonia,
Hoover,
Peter & Gordon,
AZ,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cowsills,
Monolake,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sixth Finger,
Accadde A,
the Slits,
Arthur Verocai,
Arcadia,
The Saints,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Flag,
Albert Ayler,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gabor Szabo,
Spoonie Gee,
DJ Sneak,
The Star Department,
Hasil Adkins,
the Association,
Cal Tjader,
Infiniti,
Davy DMX,
Harry Pussy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jerry Gold Smith,
10cc,
Crispy Ambulance,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eric Dolphy,
Country Teasers,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.