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 Togo and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Erykah Badu to the rap 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
the Bar-Kays,
Porter Ricks,
Peter & Gordon,
Minny Pops,
Quadrant,
Boz Scaggs,
Rites of Spring,
The Dead C,
Brick,
The Stooges,
Wire,
Bad Manners,
Franke,
Japan,
Jacob Miller,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Absolute Body Control,
In Retrospect,
Urselle,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Durutti Column,
U.S. Maple,
Radiopuhelimet,
Harry Pussy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deakin,
Max Romeo,
Fad Gadget,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Raincoats,
Maleditus Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Soul Sonic Force,
Thee Headcoats,
Soulsonic Force,
Fear,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kool Moe Dee,
The New Christs,
48th St. Collective,
Black Sheep,
Clear Light,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Selecter,
The Birthday Party,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Offenders,
The Seeds,
Man Parrish,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lou Reed,
Dual Sessions,
Black Pus,
Lungfish,
Intrusion,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Harmonia,
Tropical Tobacco,
Magazine,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.