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 Africa and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Roxy Music to the punk 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Guru Guru,
Rod Modell,
Erasure,
The Star Department,
The Remains,
Easy Going,
Simply Red,
Franke,
Pussy Galore,
DNA,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Robert Hood,
Monks,
Donny Hathaway,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Flash Fearless,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kas Product,
Todd Rundgren,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ultravox,
The Litter,
Funkadelic,
Lakeside,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mark Hollis,
The Move,
Skriet,
Wolf Eyes,
Idris Muhammad,
the Sonics,
Angry Samoans,
The Last Poets,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Cowsills,
Al Stewart,
Danielle Patucci,
Technova,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jandek,
L. Decosne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Beau Brummels,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Selecter,
Blake Baxter,
June of 44,
The Busters,
Ten City,
John Coltrane,
Yellowson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Derrick Morgan,
Sex Pistols,
Ken Boothe,
Mantronix,
China Crisis,
Nils Olav,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.