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 Angola and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Angry Samoans to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Johnny Clarke,
Royal Trux,
The Red Krayola,
Smog,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brick,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Drexciya,
The Litter,
Alphaville,
Reagan Youth,
The Evens,
June of 44,
The Black Dice,
A Certain Ratio,
Organ,
Roxy Music,
Sister Nancy,
DJ Sneak,
The Offenders,
Sugar Minott,
Jesper Dahlback,
Infiniti,
These Immortal Souls,
Slick Rick,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Trumans Water,
Arcadia,
Amon Düül,
Marc Almond,
The Electric Prunes,
Amon Düül II,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Negative Approach,
Ornette Coleman,
Laurel Aitken,
Gabor Szabo,
La Düsseldorf,
John Cale,
Kerri Chandler,
Morten Harket,
Harmonia,
David McCallum,
Ponytail,
David Bowie,
The Fall,
Bluetip,
This Heat,
a-ha,
Q65,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Cure,
Nas,
UT,
Cybotron,
Marine Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Moon,
Los Fastidios,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.