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 Israel and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator 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 Moebius to the punk 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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Pulsallama,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sonics,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Robert Wyatt,
Mr. Review,
Harry Pussy,
Moebius,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scan 7,
The Trojans,
Brothers Johnson,
Albert Ayler,
The Fuzztones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Five Americans,
Alton Ellis,
Magma,
Don Cherry,
Cal Tjader,
Pagans,
Dead Boys,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Desert Stars,
Oneida,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Swans,
Nik Kershaw,
The Evens,
The Music Machine,
Cluster,
Sparks,
Drexciya,
Lyres,
Wire,
OOIOO,
Minor Threat,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
48th St. Collective,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Slackers,
Amazonics,
Ultra Naté,
Bootsy Collins,
Yazoo,
Cybotron,
Chrome,
Avey Tare,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sugar Minott,
Iggy Pop,
Sällskapet,
Amon Düül,
Blancmange,
Funky Four + One,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Patti Smith,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.