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 Uganda and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer 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 The Dirtbombs to the disco 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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Isaac Hayes,
Roxette,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Howard Jones,
Lungfish,
The Standells,
X-101,
The Mojo Men,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tres Demented,
Lakeside,
Moss Icon,
Wolf Eyes,
The Wake,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Public Enemy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Terry Callier,
the Swans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dual Sessions,
The Last Poets,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lalo Schifrin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Iggy Pop,
Depeche Mode,
OOIOO,
Cluster,
cv313,
H. Thieme,
Lou Christie,
Goldenarms,
The United States of America,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Stockholm Monsters,
June of 44,
Moebius,
Section 25,
The Divine Comedy,
The Blackbyrds,
Barrington Levy,
Sarah Menescal,
Maurizio,
Dawn Penn,
Clear Light,
Fad Gadget,
Circle Jerks,
The Grass Roots,
Franke,
Bizarre Inc.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Saccharine Trust,
Lucky Dragons,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Green,
Donald Byrd,
CMW,
48th St. Collective,
Henry Cow,
Aswad,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.