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 Dominican Republic and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Goldenarms to the rap 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Cecil Taylor,
The Alarm Clocks,
Animal Collective,
Television Personalities,
Girls At Our Best!,
Maurizio,
Little Man,
Minor Threat,
Kurtis Blow,
Donny Hathaway,
Dorothy Ashby,
Funkadelic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
World's Most,
Harry Pussy,
Circle Jerks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Accadde A,
Adolescents,
Roxy Music,
John Lydon,
New Order,
Marvin Gaye,
The Real Kids,
DNA,
Visage,
Lakeside,
Trumans Water,
The Techniques,
Josef K,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arab on Radar,
Roger Hodgson,
Rod Modell,
the Association,
Malaria!,
The Music Machine,
Bootsy Collins,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soulsonic Force,
Hardrive,
The Cramps,
Junior Murvin,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Red Krayola,
Pulsallama,
Black Pus,
The Five Americans,
Slave,
Scrapy,
Jawbox,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sex Pistols,
Pagans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lindisfarne,
The Moody Blues,
Clear Light,
Technova,
Das Ding,
U.S. Maple,
Donald Byrd,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.