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 Haiti and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Wally Richardson to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Boz Scaggs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Technova,
Shuggie Otis,
Black Moon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yazoo,
Neil Young,
Marshall Jefferson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Laurel Aitken,
Jawbox,
Second Layer,
Heaven 17,
Danielle Patucci,
Suburban Knight,
Scion,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Modern Lovers,
Ossler,
Rakim,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Buckinghams,
Sister Nancy,
Iggy Pop,
Fugazi,
Pet Shop Boys,
CMW,
Television Personalities,
John Coltrane,
June Days,
Howard Jones,
Y Pants,
kango's stein massive,
Basic Channel,
Soulsonic Force,
Joensuu 1685,
The Stooges,
Deakin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rhythm & Sound,
Essential Logic,
X-Ray Spex,
Joe Finger,
FM Einheit,
Zapp,
The Electric Prunes,
PIL,
The Searchers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Newcleus,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soft Machine,
Masters at Work,
Sex Pistols,
The Fall,
The Five Americans,
Radiohead,
Flipper,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.