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 Namibia and from London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Minnie Riperton to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David McCallum,
Avey Tare,
Ultimate Spinach,
Connie Case,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Swans,
Scan 7,
Can,
U.S. Maple,
ABC,
Marine Girls,
Faraquet,
Suburban Knight,
Lalann,
Jimmy McGriff,
Boz Scaggs,
Josef K,
Rites of Spring,
Yaz,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lalo Schifrin,
Theoretical Girls,
Neu!,
Mission of Burma,
Todd Terry,
Dead Boys,
Fatback Band,
Ossler,
Gang Starr,
Blake Baxter,
The Names,
Aural Exciters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Harry Pussy,
Jerry's Kids,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marmalade,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eric Copeland,
Bill Wells,
Sparks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Normal,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Smog,
The Blues Magoos,
Eve St. Jones,
Drive Like Jehu,
Desert Stars,
Ronan,
Inner City,
Infiniti,
Make Up,
Radiopuhelimet,
DNA,
Matthew Bourne,
T.S.O.L.,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.