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 South Sudan and from Woodstock.
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 Lille and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Maleditus Sound to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Todd Terry,
Ultravox,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Oblivians,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Metal Thangz,
Dawn Penn,
Cal Tjader,
Judy Mowatt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gong,
The Residents,
The Wake,
Shoche,
Con Funk Shun,
Masters at Work,
The Trojans,
Rites of Spring,
The Gories,
Index,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Traffic Nightmare,
Brothers Johnson,
the Germs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nick Fraelich,
Deepchord,
The Grass Roots,
Skaos,
Parry Music,
Deakin,
Wire,
Brand Nubian,
Maleditus Sound,
Arcadia,
Stetsasonic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mark Hollis,
The Monks,
the Slits,
Make Up,
Aural Exciters,
Stockholm Monsters,
H. Thieme,
Cluster,
Camouflage,
Talk Talk,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Drive Like Jehu,
Visage,
Piero Umiliani,
Roy Ayers,
Eric Dolphy,
The Motions,
Ken Boothe,
Icehouse,
Tres Demented,
Kerrie Biddell,
CMW,
The Invisible,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.