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 Singapore and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Coltrane,
Soft Cell,
Radiopuhelimet,
Reagan Youth,
Steve Hackett,
The Barracudas,
Mandrill,
Connie Case,
Hoover,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Don Cherry,
Soulsonic Force,
The Victims,
Eli Mardock,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stetsasonic,
Niagra,
The Angels of Light,
Gong,
Skriet,
Henry Cow,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jacques Brel,
Sugar Minott,
The Slackers,
Pere Ubu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Yellowson,
The Offenders,
Model 500,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mo-Dettes,
Bill Wells,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Bananas,
Prince Buster,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Idris Muhammad,
Boredoms,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Birthday Party,
Bobby Womack,
Nils Olav,
The Index,
Lucky Dragons,
World's Most,
Charles Mingus,
The Fire Engines,
U.S. Maple,
Procol Harum,
The Misunderstood,
Young Marble Giants,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Au Pairs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dual Sessions,
Chrome,
The Moleskins,
Arthur Verocai,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.