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 Gambia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Brothers Johnson to the rap 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobby Byrd,
Letta Mbulu,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Todd Rundgren,
T.S.O.L.,
Sex Pistols,
Essential Logic,
Panda Bear,
Robert Hood,
Camouflage,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yusef Lateef,
Barrington Levy,
Crash Course in Science,
Ossler,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Blake Baxter,
Mr. Review,
Jeff Lynne,
Slick Rick,
Tom Boy,
Shuggie Otis,
Ludus,
The Last Poets,
Popol Vuh,
Max Romeo,
The Sonics,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Laurel Aitken,
The Modern Lovers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Stiv Bators,
The Gladiators,
The Cowsills,
The Angels of Light,
10cc,
Scientists,
Make Up,
Liliput,
Sugar Minott,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
David McCallum,
Scott Walker,
Basic Channel,
Lightning Bolt,
Brass Construction,
Rapeman,
The American Breed,
The Misunderstood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Minnie Riperton,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Danielle Patucci,
Sixth Finger,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jacques Brel,
Eurythmics,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.