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 Turkey and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 organ 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 Matthew Halsall 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
48th St. Collective,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Radiopuhelimet,
One Last Wish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
New Order,
World's Most,
Desert Stars,
Depeche Mode,
Babytalk,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crash Course in Science,
Yaz,
John Holt,
Amon Düül,
Neil Young,
Kayak,
Albert Ayler,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Trojans,
Pierre Henry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Vladislav Delay,
China Crisis,
Symarip,
Ituana,
Arthur Verocai,
Mars,
Hardrive,
the Association,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Velvet Underground,
CMW,
10cc,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Q65,
Alice Coltrane,
Pole,
Gerry Rafferty,
Matthew Halsall,
Man Eating Sloth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Last Poets,
Sixth Finger,
Intrusion,
Q and Not U,
Kevin Saunderson,
Warren Ellis,
Scratch Acid,
The Birthday Party,
Marine Girls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Organ,
the Fania All-Stars,
Niagra,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.