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 Bangladesh and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Scratch Acid to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The New Christs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Inner City,
John Lydon,
Laurel Aitken,
Tim Buckley,
Slave,
Porter Ricks,
Drexciya,
Smog,
Wings,
Little Man,
Todd Terry,
The Smoke,
Pole,
Erasure,
The Electric Prunes,
Underground Resistance,
Y Pants,
Scrapy,
Faraquet,
H. Thieme,
John Coltrane,
Sixth Finger,
Lee Hazlewood,
Colin Newman,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fluxion,
The Flesh Eaters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Visage,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sonic Youth,
John Foxx,
Danielle Patucci,
Oneida,
Fatback Band,
Ossler,
Groovy Waters,
Moss Icon,
Sarah Menescal,
Lucky Dragons,
OOIOO,
Gang of Four,
Rakim,
Jawbox,
Bill Near,
Theoretical Girls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Chris Corsano,
Steve Hackett,
Aaron Thompson,
Lower 48,
One Last Wish,
Mark Hollis,
Juan Atkins,
Eric Dolphy,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.