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 East Timor and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ultra Naté to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Dark Day,
Grandmaster Flash,
Talk Talk,
Livin' Joy,
Erykah Badu,
Con Funk Shun,
Joe Smooth,
The Count Five,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bill Near,
Marmalade,
Black Sheep,
Fear,
Zapp,
Buzzcocks,
Flash Fearless,
Soul II Soul,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eric Copeland,
Model 500,
Ralphi Rosario,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scan 7,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Desert Stars,
Half Japanese,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gang Green,
The Litter,
Yazoo,
Mars,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Sound,
Wally Richardson,
The Gories,
Mr. Review,
Flipper,
Outsiders,
Michelle Simonal,
The Cure,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Stetsasonic,
The Last Poets,
Lightning Bolt,
Darondo,
Essential Logic,
Oneida,
Sixth Finger,
Dual Sessions,
Nico,
Brass Construction,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Blues Magoos,
Eric Dolphy,
Kayak,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Liliput,
The United States of America,
Terry Callier,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.