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 Togo and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dark Day to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Sun Ra,
The Dead C,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Drexciya,
DJ Style,
Mandrill,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Monks,
The Five Americans,
Nas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
CMW,
OOIOO,
Porter Ricks,
Mr. Review,
Idris Muhammad,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Mojo Men,
Davy DMX,
Swans,
Mission of Burma,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sparks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang Starr,
Royal Trux,
The Knickerbockers,
The Beau Brummels,
Ornette Coleman,
Jimmy McGriff,
Andrew Hill,
Mars,
Zero Boys,
The Cowsills,
Average White Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
World's Most,
The Cure,
Gabor Szabo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
MDC,
Sex Pistols,
These Immortal Souls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Residents,
Todd Terry,
Graham Central Station,
The American Breed,
Gang Green,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nirvana,
Lindisfarne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joy Division,
Main Source,
The Red Krayola,
Delta 5,
Altered Images,
Bauhaus,
The Vogues,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.