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 Iceland and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Rakim to the funk 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Minor Threat,
Sparks,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gun Club,
Gang Green,
Arab on Radar,
Brick,
Fela Kuti,
Pussy Galore,
The Gladiators,
The Offenders,
Minutemen,
The Velvet Underground,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dead Boys,
Bob Dylan,
Ituana,
Iggy Pop,
David McCallum,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Glambeats Corp.,
Skriet,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kas Product,
MC5,
Radio Birdman,
Amazonics,
Interpol,
The Techniques,
Godley & Creme,
Cybotron,
Drive Like Jehu,
Chris & Cosey,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Fugs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Public Enemy,
10cc,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Faraquet,
Pharoah Sanders,
Q and Not U,
KRS-One,
Avey Tare,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Colin Newman,
Jeff Lynne,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jeff Mills,
Soul Sonic Force,
Shuggie Otis,
Bootsy Collins,
The Mighty Diamonds,
kango's stein massive,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.