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 Singapore and from Sao Paulo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Section 25 to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Organ,
UT,
Erykah Badu,
Arthur Verocai,
David Bowie,
Royal Trux,
Hashim,
JFA,
Glenn Branca,
Cheater Slicks,
Letta Mbulu,
Inner City,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gastr Del Sol,
Anthony Braxton,
The Move,
The Martian,
Toni Rubio,
Buzzcocks,
Mantronix,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Sonics,
The Zeros,
Stiv Bators,
Alice Coltrane,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Dead C,
The Offenders,
The Smoke,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Radiopuhelimet,
Don Cherry,
Faraquet,
The Last Poets,
Sun Ra,
The Slits,
Donny Hathaway,
Pussy Galore,
Rapeman,
Charles Mingus,
PIL,
Youth Brigade,
Dorothy Ashby,
Grey Daturas,
The Cure,
Dave Gahan,
Au Pairs,
Hot Snakes,
The Count Five,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lalann,
Icehouse,
Piero Umiliani,
Lightning Bolt,
Black Pus,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eden Ahbez,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lungfish,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
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.