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 Papua New Guinea and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 David Bowie 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 Intrusion to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Wings,
The Blackbyrds,
Section 25,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Toni Rubio,
Jacob Miller,
Pantaleimon,
10cc,
Ralphi Rosario,
Minny Pops,
The Last Poets,
The Names,
The Fuzztones,
The Invisible,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Sherman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Negative Approach,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Moon,
Drexciya,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Joe Finger,
Tommy Roe,
The Cramps,
the Sonics,
Grandmaster Flash,
Television Personalities,
The Toasters,
Scratch Acid,
Nik Kershaw,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gang of Four,
Blossom Toes,
Index,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eurythmics,
June Days,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lyres,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Y Pants,
Cluster,
Animal Collective,
Smog,
Alphaville,
Monolake,
Janne Schatter,
EPMD,
Soft Cell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Bananas,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jacques Brel,
A Certain Ratio,
Camouflage,
Average White Band,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.