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 Namibia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Crash Course in Science to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Nas,
Wings,
Lebanon Hanover,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Joey Negro,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Hood,
Jawbox,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Saccharine Trust,
Mad Mike,
X-101,
Brothers Johnson,
Neu!,
Japan,
World's Most,
Roy Ayers,
ABC,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Vogues,
Minutemen,
Isaac Hayes,
the Slits,
the Swans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Donald Byrd,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Doors,
The Busters,
The Techniques,
Derrick Morgan,
Q and Not U,
Juan Atkins,
Sister Nancy,
John Foxx,
The Red Krayola,
Moss Icon,
La Düsseldorf,
China Crisis,
Wasted Youth,
Slick Rick,
Sällskapet,
Joe Smooth,
Yaz,
Lungfish,
Quadrant,
Stetsasonic,
Jerry's Kids,
The Barracudas,
Goldenarms,
Royal Trux,
Ultravox,
The United States of America,
Tim Buckley,
Duran Duran,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
This Heat,
Kaleidoscope,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.