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 Portugal and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer 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 Shuggie Otis to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Pierre Henry,
Sun Ra,
Make Up,
This Heat,
T.S.O.L.,
Piero Umiliani,
The Residents,
Freddie Wadling,
The New Christs,
Faraquet,
Ultimate Spinach,
Laurel Aitken,
Soft Machine,
Excepter,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Chris Corsano,
Patti Smith,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fifty Foot Hose,
B.T. Express,
Angry Samoans,
Scan 7,
John Cale,
Eli Mardock,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Derrick May,
Motorama,
The Litter,
Wasted Youth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alton Ellis,
A Certain Ratio,
Kerrie Biddell,
Metal Thangz,
Visage,
Black Pus,
Suicide,
The Tremeloes,
Donny Hathaway,
Swans,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Foxx,
Little Man,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Buckinghams,
Morten Harket,
Althea and Donna,
Pulsallama,
In Retrospect,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Kinks,
Black Sheep,
Stetsasonic,
Audionom,
World's Most,
Tim Buckley,
Boredoms,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.