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 Kuwait and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin 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 Susan Cadogan to the funk 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Television,
Barclay James Harvest,
Heaven 17,
Reagan Youth,
This Heat,
Minnie Riperton,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Fire Engines,
The Durutti Column,
Dead Boys,
Yazoo,
James White and The Blacks,
Mission of Burma,
Girls At Our Best!,
Schoolly D,
Trumans Water,
The Moleskins,
Tropical Tobacco,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Oneida,
Jesper Dahlback,
U.S. Maple,
Moebius,
Ornette Coleman,
The Wake,
Ludus,
Camouflage,
Erykah Badu,
Outsiders,
Johnny Osbourne,
Derrick May,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Funkadelic,
The Smoke,
One Last Wish,
Amon Düül,
Patti Smith,
Terrestrial Tones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Thee Headcoats,
The Cowsills,
Crime,
K-Klass,
Neu!,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Niagra,
The Last Poets,
Alphaville,
Pylon,
Second Layer,
The Doors,
Aloha Tigers,
The Five Americans,
Black Moon,
Cecil Taylor,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Delon & Dalcan,
Symarip,
Clear Light,
Jandek,
The Red Krayola,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.