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 South Africa and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 oboe 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 JFA to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Gang of Four,
Average White Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Althea and Donna,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Magma,
The Slits,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Zero Boys,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
Aswad,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sex Pistols,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sällskapet,
Liliput,
The Gories,
Scratch Acid,
Das Ding,
Kaleidoscope,
Lungfish,
The Gun Club,
Symarip,
Man Parrish,
Alice Coltrane,
The Electric Prunes,
Unwound,
The Mummies,
Toni Rubio,
The New Christs,
Godley & Creme,
FM Einheit,
Rapeman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Danielle Patucci,
Rites of Spring,
Excepter,
the Human League,
The Monks,
Cameo,
Bang On A Can,
Bill Wells,
Nico,
Mad Mike,
Pere Ubu,
Wolf Eyes,
Massinfluence,
David McCallum,
Jeff Lynne,
The Birthday Party,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Leaves,
The Associates,
Suburban Knight,
Fat Boys,
Mandrill,
Anthony Braxton,
Bill Near,
Y Pants,
Bronski Beat,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.