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 Barbados and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sex Pistols to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Sherman,
Man Parrish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Theoretical Girls,
Skriet,
the Soft Cell,
Eve St. Jones,
UT,
Intrusion,
Kas Product,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Average White Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
LL Cool J,
Black Flag,
Sun City Girls,
Hoover,
John Holt,
The Golliwogs,
Bluetip,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Deakin,
Junior Murvin,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Seeds,
The Alarm Clocks,
Popol Vuh,
DJ Sneak,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tears for Fears,
Marvin Gaye,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ludus,
Bill Near,
Symarip,
Graham Central Station,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Görl,
Connie Case,
Groovy Waters,
The Cowsills,
The American Breed,
Delta 5,
The Residents,
Black Pus,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Skatalites,
Nick Fraelich,
Lindisfarne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roy Ayers,
Faraquet,
The Selecter,
Letta Mbulu,
Reuben Wilson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Vainqueur,
Excepter,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.