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 Guinea and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Michael McDonald 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 B.T. Express to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
R.M.O.,
Matthew Halsall,
Parry Music,
Joey Negro,
Jeff Mills,
Metal Thangz,
Crispian St. Peters,
Warren Ellis,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Harry Pussy,
Khruangbin,
The Tremeloes,
The Associates,
Aswad,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alice Coltrane,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Patti Smith,
Sound Behaviour,
LL Cool J,
Flipper,
Terry Callier,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Sonics,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Birthday Party,
K-Klass,
Vainqueur,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Human League,
Nils Olav,
Joy Division,
Big Daddy Kane,
Piero Umiliani,
Hashim,
Schoolly D,
The Happenings,
Angry Samoans,
The Pretty Things,
Arcadia,
Danielle Patucci,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Victims,
Graham Central Station,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Bar-Kays,
Ralphi Rosario,
Camouflage,
Man Parrish,
Chris Corsano,
Con Funk Shun,
Excepter,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Grass Roots,
Joyce Sims,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gap Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Massinfluence,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.