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 Qatar and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 The Skatalites to the funk 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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
The J.B.'s,
Byron Stingily,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Byrd,
New Age Steppers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Agent Orange,
The Toasters,
The Modern Lovers,
Eden Ahbez,
UT,
Marvin Gaye,
the Association,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Monolake,
Subhumans,
MDC,
Essential Logic,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kerri Chandler,
The Detroit Cobras,
June Days,
Magazine,
Rekid,
Leonard Cohen,
Lalann,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Moody Blues,
Crispian St. Peters,
This Heat,
Kevin Saunderson,
Television Personalities,
Marc Almond,
Newcleus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Slits,
The Gladiators,
H. Thieme,
Pussy Galore,
Angry Samoans,
Liliput,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Unwound,
The Alarm Clocks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Symarip,
Bizarre Inc.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Birthday Party,
Davy DMX,
John Lydon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Silicon Teens,
Lou Christie,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Flipper,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.