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 Swaziland and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Blake Baxter to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Amon Düül II,
Anakelly,
Ken Boothe,
Ice-T,
Todd Terry,
Donald Byrd,
The Birthday Party,
The Zeros,
Audionom,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cameo,
Soul II Soul,
Black Pus,
Marshall Jefferson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Barracudas,
Sun City Girls,
AZ,
The Techniques,
Jeru the Damaja,
kango's stein massive,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
R.M.O.,
Jacques Brel,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cluster,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mandrill,
Kool Moe Dee,
Erykah Badu,
Roxette,
the Sonics,
Max Romeo,
Buzzcocks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ronnie Foster,
Thompson Twins,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Joyce Sims,
The Sound,
Piero Umiliani,
Alphaville,
Tubeway Army,
Lungfish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Donny Hathaway,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Andrew Hill,
Sonny Sharrock,
UT,
the Germs,
The American Breed,
David Axelrod,
F. McDonald,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.