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 Ivory Coast and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 rhodes 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 Nik Kershaw to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
the Germs,
The Last Poets,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Idris Muhammad,
Malaria!,
La Düsseldorf,
Tubeway Army,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Derrick May,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Albert Ayler,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Camouflage,
The Victims,
Suburban Knight,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bang On A Can,
Fat Boys,
Reagan Youth,
Echospace,
Brass Construction,
The Velvet Underground,
The Searchers,
Outsiders,
Schoolly D,
The Knickerbockers,
One Last Wish,
Soulsonic Force,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Banda Bassotti,
Todd Terry,
The Neon Judgement,
Roy Ayers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Black Pus,
Parry Music,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Thompson Twins,
Brand Nubian,
World's Most,
Bobby Womack,
Toni Rubio,
Neu!,
The Leaves,
Faraquet,
Eddi Front,
The Slackers,
The Stooges,
Jeff Mills,
Soft Cell,
Rites of Spring,
kango's stein massive,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Dirtbombs,
Grey Daturas,
Iggy Pop,
Carl Craig,
Ronnie Foster,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sam Rivers,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.