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 Vietnam and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Mary Jane Girls to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Steve Hackett,
Charles Mingus,
Crash Course in Science,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Machine,
the Association,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Skatalites,
Organ,
The Slackers,
the Human League,
Tropical Tobacco,
AZ,
The Moody Blues,
Rapeman,
These Immortal Souls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ultimate Spinach,
Amon Düül,
Clear Light,
Sarah Menescal,
The Neon Judgement,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cluster,
Bobby Womack,
Bill Near,
Tomorrow,
The Vogues,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mission of Burma,
Subhumans,
Theoretical Girls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gabor Szabo,
Soft Cell,
The Evens,
Can,
Gang of Four,
Y Pants,
Harpers Bizarre,
Average White Band,
Vainqueur,
The Doors,
Symarip,
Dawn Penn,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Underground Resistance,
Grauzone,
Mo-Dettes,
Iggy Pop,
The Mojo Men,
Livin' Joy,
Oblivians,
Das Ding,
Marmalade,
Robert Görl,
Drive Like Jehu,
Depeche Mode,
Brothers Johnson,
Unrelated Segments,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.