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 Ivory Coast and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Black Pus to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Minnie Riperton,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Robert Wyatt,
Neil Young,
The Fire Engines,
Moby Grape,
Oneida,
Easy Going,
Whodini,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Association,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cybotron,
Absolute Body Control,
Rites of Spring,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Sheep,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pole,
Altered Images,
Average White Band,
The Dead C,
Gichy Dan,
Essential Logic,
Jerry's Kids,
Boogie Down Productions,
U.S. Maple,
Accadde A,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Severed Heads,
The Index,
Hasil Adkins,
The Saints,
Nick Fraelich,
Ken Boothe,
The Smiths,
Youth Brigade,
The Fuzztones,
Alphaville,
Dorothy Ashby,
Soul II Soul,
Rod Modell,
David McCallum,
Avey Tare,
Shuggie Otis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Piero Umiliani,
Stockholm Monsters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Andrew Hill,
Bootsy Collins,
Con Funk Shun,
Blake Baxter,
June of 44,
La Düsseldorf,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.