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 Swaziland and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the grunge 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Minutemen,
X-Ray Spex,
Robert Hood,
La Düsseldorf,
Stiv Bators,
Skriet,
Eurythmics,
The Names,
Jesper Dahlback,
Quando Quango,
Magma,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Quantec,
the Germs,
The United States of America,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yazoo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Aloha Tigers,
Soulsonic Force,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dorothy Ashby,
Camouflage,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Electric Prunes,
Ultravox,
Josef K,
Bobby Womack,
The Walker Brothers,
The Gap Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun Ra,
Fela Kuti,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pole,
Rakim,
Sex Pistols,
Wings,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Real Kids,
The Count Five,
The Wake,
Babytalk,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Audionom,
Eden Ahbez,
the Fania All-Stars,
Shuggie Otis,
EPMD,
The Slackers,
Loose Ends,
Boogie Down Productions,
Henry Cow,
kango's stein massive,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yusef Lateef,
The Vogues,
Ten City,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dark Day,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.