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 Saudi Arabia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Juan Atkins to the rap 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Erykah Badu,
The Cowsills,
Marc Almond,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Make Up,
The Alarm Clocks,
Intrusion,
The Mojo Men,
Junior Murvin,
Soft Machine,
Joy Division,
Bobby Womack,
Drexciya,
Soulsonic Force,
cv313,
Hardrive,
the Slits,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Byrd,
Infiniti,
Jerry's Kids,
Warsaw,
Electric Prunes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Boz Scaggs,
Lindisfarne,
Derrick Morgan,
The Count Five,
Colin Newman,
Minor Threat,
Bang On A Can,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
OOIOO,
The Real Kids,
Basic Channel,
Neu!,
The Beau Brummels,
Funky Four + One,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Shoche,
Amazonics,
New York Dolls,
Kerrie Biddell,
T. Rex,
The Gun Club,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dead C,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Country Teasers,
Swans,
The Gladiators,
Crash Course in Science,
Model 500,
Unrelated Segments,
June of 44,
F. McDonald,
ABBA,
Suburban Knight,
Jeff Mills,
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.