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 Belize and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the disco 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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb 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 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
The Electric Prunes,
Charles Mingus,
Sixth Finger,
The United States of America,
Popol Vuh,
Vladislav Delay,
UT,
Rhythm & Sound,
Letta Mbulu,
Scott Walker,
Al Stewart,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rod Modell,
Q65,
The Sonics,
Yellowson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Anthony Braxton,
Skriet,
Essential Logic,
DJ Sneak,
Animal Collective,
A Certain Ratio,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rapeman,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Trojans,
FM Einheit,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ultimate Spinach,
E-Dancer,
Can,
Donald Byrd,
Scan 7,
Newcleus,
Blossom Toes,
Eurythmics,
Rosa Yemen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Moon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Connie Case,
Andrew Hill,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sandy B,
Faust,
Tommy Roe,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lee Hazlewood,
Anakelly,
The Monks,
Junior Murvin,
Absolute Body Control,
Reuben Wilson,
Swell Maps,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.