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 Gabon and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lalo Schifrin to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson 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 a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Hot Snakes,
Monolake,
Charles Mingus,
The Grass Roots,
Essential Logic,
Letta Mbulu,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Gap Band,
The J.B.'s,
Flipper,
One Last Wish,
The Sonics,
Metal Thangz,
Suburban Knight,
Scrapy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pere Ubu,
DJ Sneak,
Ituana,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Velvet Underground,
Circle Jerks,
Sparks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Half Japanese,
Simply Red,
The Alarm Clocks,
Oblivians,
Vladislav Delay,
Rakim,
The Black Dice,
Bush Tetras,
Archie Shepp,
The Divine Comedy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Robert Wyatt,
Aswad,
Anthony Braxton,
The Gun Club,
The Neon Judgement,
The Motions,
Joe Smooth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Terry Callier,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Smog,
the Germs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Flash Fearless,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Banda Bassotti,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Blues Magoos,
Harmonia,
Sixth Finger,
Tubeway Army,
James White and The Blacks,
CMW,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.