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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marine Girls to the rap 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
The Busters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Sheep,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Music Machine,
Intrusion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Chris Corsano,
Delon & Dalcan,
ABBA,
James White and The Blacks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Skaos,
Sun City Girls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pylon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Vainqueur,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Knickerbockers,
KRS-One,
Wire,
Mandrill,
The Barracudas,
The Stooges,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bluetip,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cheater Slicks,
Letta Mbulu,
The Mummies,
Index,
Accadde A,
Pulsallama,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
E-Dancer,
Sarah Menescal,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Boredoms,
Model 500,
Dawn Penn,
Howard Jones,
Tomorrow,
Kurtis Blow,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rapeman,
Erykah Badu,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sister Nancy,
Marc Almond,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Public Image Ltd.,
Brothers Johnson,
Byron Stingily,
Underground Resistance,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.