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 Czech Republic and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Toni Rubio to the grime 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Warsaw,
Siglo XX,
Andrew Hill,
Mandrill,
The Doors,
Brick,
Gichy Dan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
John Holt,
In Retrospect,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kaleidoscope,
New Age Steppers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fela Kuti,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Supertramp,
The Standells,
Avey Tare,
Shoche,
The New Christs,
Qualms,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Todd Terry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Unwound,
T. Rex,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Skatalites,
Skarface,
Donny Hathaway,
Ultravox,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bad Manners,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Hot Snakes,
Joyce Sims,
Erasure,
Tears for Fears,
Graham Central Station,
Rapeman,
L. Decosne,
The United States of America,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Banda Bassotti,
Bobby Sherman,
Swell Maps,
Grauzone,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nick Fraelich,
Wasted Youth,
Smog,
Tom Boy,
Fluxion,
Michelle Simonal,
Scratch Acid,
Porter Ricks,
The Slackers,
Ludus,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.