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 Togo and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the grunge 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Pop Group,
Charles Mingus,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mark Hollis,
OOIOO,
The Misunderstood,
AZ,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nils Olav,
Skaos,
James White and The Blacks,
Pierre Henry,
The New Christs,
The Angels of Light,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nirvana,
D'Angelo,
Tom Boy,
T.S.O.L.,
Cymande,
John Foxx,
Lungfish,
The Toasters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Girls At Our Best!,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Arab on Radar,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ronan,
Brand Nubian,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gabor Szabo,
The Techniques,
The Index,
Youth Brigade,
Al Stewart,
Funkadelic,
Pulsallama,
New Order,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eli Mardock,
Desert Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Faraquet,
cv313,
Radio Birdman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sun Ra,
The Victims,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Inner City,
The Fire Engines,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Davy DMX,
Sound Behaviour,
The Move,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
These Immortal Souls,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.