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 Maldives and from Shanghai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord 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 Eric B and Rakim to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
The Skatalites,
Archie Shepp,
Harpers Bizarre,
Panda Bear,
The Blackbyrds,
The Gap Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Severed Heads,
Eve St. Jones,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hashim,
the Slits,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Swell Maps,
The Toasters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fall,
Scrapy,
Connie Case,
Desert Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
Monks,
Todd Rundgren,
Quadrant,
Essential Logic,
Marshall Jefferson,
Black Flag,
Barbara Tucker,
Metal Thangz,
Banda Bassotti,
Skaos,
Derrick Morgan,
R.M.O.,
Rotary Connection,
Grauzone,
Davy DMX,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Red Krayola,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Blancmange,
Sound Behaviour,
The Gun Club,
Kas Product,
Lalann,
Mandrill,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Howard Jones,
Roy Ayers,
Shoche,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobby Byrd,
The Invisible,
Rosa Yemen,
48th St. Collective,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tubeway Army,
Moss Icon,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.