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 China and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin 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 Maleditus Sound to the disco 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu 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?
The Standells,
Hasil Adkins,
Pharoah Sanders,
Skaos,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Toasters,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Byrd,
John Lydon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
B.T. Express,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Count Five,
The Flesh Eaters,
EPMD,
Tomorrow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Velvet Underground,
ABBA,
DJ Style,
Bad Manners,
Rekid,
the Swans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Steve Hackett,
Arab on Radar,
Buzzcocks,
Alice Coltrane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nico,
The Durutti Column,
Tubeway Army,
Swell Maps,
Lalann,
One Last Wish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minnie Riperton,
Faust,
Moebius,
Johnny Osbourne,
Vainqueur,
OOIOO,
Bill Near,
Aaron Thompson,
Mission of Burma,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roy Ayers,
Matthew Halsall,
Desert Stars,
Idris Muhammad,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Red Krayola,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aural Exciters,
Terry Callier,
Sparks,
Bronski Beat,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Move,
Boz Scaggs,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.