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 Niger and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Hot Snakes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Ornette Coleman,
Spoonie Gee,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hashim,
The Real Kids,
Ponytail,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Scion,
Ultravox,
Kas Product,
Howard Jones,
The Gories,
Theoretical Girls,
Trumans Water,
Joyce Sims,
Das Ding,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Fear,
Arthur Verocai,
Leonard Cohen,
Amon Düül II,
In Retrospect,
Gang Green,
Kaleidoscope,
DNA,
The Gap Band,
the Soft Cell,
Harmonia,
Cal Tjader,
Stockholm Monsters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Matthew Bourne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Skaos,
Carl Craig,
The Music Machine,
L. Decosne,
Wire,
Desert Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joensuu 1685,
X-101,
Idris Muhammad,
The Moody Blues,
Pet Shop Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Wasted Youth,
The Dead C,
Johnny Clarke,
UT,
Minnie Riperton,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Depeche Mode,
Roxette,
Sparks,
The Knickerbockers,
EPMD,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.