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 Comoros and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord 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 Y Pants to the funk 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Dual Sessions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Darondo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Junior Murvin,
Severed Heads,
Metal Thangz,
The Kinks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Stiv Bators,
Judy Mowatt,
Mars,
Fatback Band,
Unwound,
Los Fastidios,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Goldenarms,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
ABBA,
Warren Ellis,
Mandrill,
Marshall Jefferson,
Blancmange,
Bootsy Collins,
Harmonia,
Wings,
Agent Orange,
Pussy Galore,
Joey Negro,
Wally Richardson,
The Evens,
MDC,
Man Parrish,
Cybotron,
Iggy Pop,
The Red Krayola,
The Index,
Little Man,
Country Teasers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tubeway Army,
Guru Guru,
Tim Buckley,
Eve St. Jones,
Pantytec,
Joyce Sims,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sound Behaviour,
The Buckinghams,
The Stooges,
Rakim,
Clear Light,
Ultravox,
48th St. Collective,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Motorama,
World's Most,
Glenn Branca,
Q and Not U,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.