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 Netherlands and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba 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 Altered Images to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Pussy Galore,
The Monks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jawbox,
The Slits,
the Swans,
The Pretty Things,
Robert Wyatt,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Half Japanese,
Depeche Mode,
Tres Demented,
The Smiths,
Aloha Tigers,
Bootsy Collins,
The Kinks,
Oneida,
Roxette,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Thompson Twins,
Charles Mingus,
Barrington Levy,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
Ronan,
F. McDonald,
Motorama,
Nico,
Tommy Roe,
Boz Scaggs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Can,
Television,
Gabor Szabo,
Pantaleimon,
One Last Wish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nils Olav,
Barbara Tucker,
Isaac Hayes,
Adolescents,
A Flock of Seagulls,
New Age Steppers,
The J.B.'s,
Kas Product,
Josef K,
Kenny Larkin,
Joe Smooth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gang Starr,
Fela Kuti,
The Five Americans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Brass Construction,
Flamin' Groovies,
Alison Limerick,
Eli Mardock,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Janne Schatter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.