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 Cape Verde and from Taipei.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro 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 the Normal to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Swans,
Bush Tetras,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sound Behaviour,
Tropical Tobacco,
Qualms,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Music Machine,
Delon & Dalcan,
CMW,
Graham Central Station,
The Invisible,
Model 500,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-Ray Spex,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Sherman,
Sonic Youth,
Sarah Menescal,
Robert Hood,
Boogie Down Productions,
The American Breed,
48th St. Collective,
DNA,
Black Sheep,
Sex Pistols,
World's Most,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Sound,
Bill Wells,
Jeff Mills,
Motorama,
Toni Rubio,
Alton Ellis,
Swell Maps,
Moebius,
Yellowson,
Loose Ends,
The Martian,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pere Ubu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Index,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Theoretical Girls,
Malaria!,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Victims,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Bar-Kays,
Minnie Riperton,
The Monks,
Jacob Miller,
Gong,
Section 25,
Severed Heads,
Wolf Eyes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.