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 Madagascar and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pere Ubu to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Yazoo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Alison Limerick,
Laurel Aitken,
Man Parrish,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crash Course in Science,
Grandmaster Flash,
Flamin' Groovies,
Neu!,
The Golliwogs,
Henry Cow,
Black Bananas,
Royal Trux,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Porter Ricks,
Maleditus Sound,
Mars,
The Toasters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Skarface,
Aural Exciters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
LL Cool J,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wasted Youth,
H. Thieme,
Moss Icon,
Pulsallama,
The Red Krayola,
Faraquet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Alton Ellis,
The Vogues,
Wire,
Boredoms,
The Busters,
Con Funk Shun,
Slick Rick,
Japan,
Severed Heads,
New Order,
Albert Ayler,
Organ,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jawbox,
Goldenarms,
Peter and Kerry,
Suburban Knight,
Gong,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
China Crisis,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Birthday Party,
Bluetip,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Charles Mingus,
Cheater Slicks,
Cecil Taylor,
Swans,
Animal Collective,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.