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 Latvia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Michael McDonald 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the grime 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 The Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Eli Mardock,
Donald Byrd,
Arcadia,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Angels of Light,
Prince Buster,
These Immortal Souls,
David Bowie,
The Cure,
The Busters,
Youth Brigade,
Sister Nancy,
Sex Pistols,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sandy B,
Letta Mbulu,
Aaron Thompson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Vainqueur,
Royal Trux,
The Last Poets,
Jacob Miller,
Panda Bear,
Little Man,
Trumans Water,
Roy Ayers,
Soft Machine,
Slick Rick,
KRS-One,
EPMD,
Curtis Mayfield,
The American Breed,
Vladislav Delay,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ice-T,
Blake Baxter,
Max Romeo,
the Normal,
Gang of Four,
Robert Görl,
Mark Hollis,
H. Thieme,
Infiniti,
Yaz,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Kinks,
Siglo XX,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amon Düül II,
Cabaret Voltaire,
cv313,
Section 25,
The Fall,
Tears for Fears,
The Tremeloes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minor Threat,
The Red Krayola,
X-Ray Spex,
Todd Rundgren,
Don Cherry,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.