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 Senegal and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Theoretical Girls to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ossler,
Susan Cadogan,
Ultra Naté,
The Durutti Column,
Niagra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yellowson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Janne Schatter,
Technova,
Drexciya,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Doors,
Black Flag,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roxy Music,
Animal Collective,
Al Stewart,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blossom Toes,
The Residents,
the Association,
Thee Headcoats,
John Cale,
Hasil Adkins,
Connie Case,
a-ha,
Lightning Bolt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cheater Slicks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pole,
This Heat,
Von Mondo,
Flash Fearless,
Eden Ahbez,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sun Ra,
Qualms,
Nas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nils Olav,
Bobby Sherman,
Rekid,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Siglo XX,
Ultravox,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nirvana,
The Velvet Underground,
Bad Manners,
T.S.O.L.,
The Trojans,
The Music Machine,
L. Decosne,
Alice Coltrane,
The Count Five,
New Order,
Arthur Verocai,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.