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 Cuba and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin 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 Severed Heads to the funk 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dennis Brown record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Peter & Gordon,
Cal Tjader,
Black Moon,
The Fugs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Josef K,
June Days,
Robert Wyatt,
Lucky Dragons,
The Last Poets,
Quadrant,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scion,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Severed Heads,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Don Cherry,
Mark Hollis,
Boredoms,
Roy Ayers,
Model 500,
Make Up,
Barrington Levy,
Heaven 17,
Arcadia,
Iggy Pop,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Toni Rubio,
Kurtis Blow,
FM Einheit,
The Toasters,
Freddie Wadling,
the Fania All-Stars,
Max Romeo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Deadbeat,
Ronan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eurythmics,
Minny Pops,
The Dirtbombs,
Second Layer,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Names,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lower 48,
The Fall,
Bobby Byrd,
The Velvet Underground,
The Count Five,
Dennis Brown,
Jacob Miller,
Rosa Yemen,
Underground Resistance,
Roxette,
Archie Shepp,
L. Decosne,
Zapp,
Wings,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.