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 United States and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
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 marimba 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Cluster,
Swans,
Essential Logic,
Albert Ayler,
DJ Style,
New Order,
These Immortal Souls,
Stiv Bators,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ken Boothe,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Coltrane,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Smog,
Crooked Eye,
Q and Not U,
Joe Smooth,
Magma,
Cybotron,
Shuggie Otis,
Black Pus,
B.T. Express,
The Remains,
Marine Girls,
Kayak,
Fugazi,
Kerri Chandler,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barbara Tucker,
Flash Fearless,
The Motions,
The Angels of Light,
Judy Mowatt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Qualms,
Con Funk Shun,
Spoonie Gee,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lightning Bolt,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Basic Channel,
Animal Collective,
Dark Day,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Television,
Rekid,
Country Teasers,
Little Man,
Loose Ends,
Procol Harum,
The Fortunes,
The Count Five,
Bang On A Can,
The Monks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Raincoats,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Blues Magoos,
Mars,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.