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 Saudi Arabia and from Bremen.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar 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 Harry Pussy to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Real Kids,
Jacques Brel,
Kerri Chandler,
the Human League,
Deadbeat,
Soft Machine,
Second Layer,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The J.B.'s,
Oneida,
Ultra Naté,
Procol Harum,
Reagan Youth,
Be Bop Deluxe,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Slave,
The Trojans,
Marvin Gaye,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Thee Headcoats,
Crooked Eye,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Nick Fraelich,
FM Einheit,
Bush Tetras,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eric Copeland,
Mr. Review,
The Sonics,
Pulsallama,
Warren Ellis,
Jesper Dahlback,
Black Moon,
Main Source,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joy Division,
John Holt,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
UT,
Radiohead,
Fela Kuti,
The Happenings,
Roxy Music,
KRS-One,
The Raincoats,
The Flesh Eaters,
Camouflage,
Ornette Coleman,
The Music Machine,
Hot Snakes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Nils Olav,
Sex Pistols,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Accadde A,
Man Eating Sloth,
Flash Fearless,
MC5,
Scratch Acid,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.