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 Brazil and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 rhodes 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 Gang Starr to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible 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?
Fear,
Swans,
Pere Ubu,
Urselle,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Harmonia,
Jacob Miller,
Connie Case,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Blossom Toes,
Robert Hood,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Al Stewart,
Cal Tjader,
F. McDonald,
AZ,
Bang On A Can,
Sonic Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Motorama,
Minny Pops,
Dark Day,
The Dead C,
Albert Ayler,
Whodini,
Angry Samoans,
Inner City,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Popol Vuh,
Rosa Yemen,
Ten City,
Davy DMX,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Cure,
Duran Duran,
Lindisfarne,
Trumans Water,
Moss Icon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Newcleus,
The Golliwogs,
Q65,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Subhumans,
Guru Guru,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eli Mardock,
Drexciya,
Crooked Eye,
Model 500,
Grey Daturas,
Toni Rubio,
Hot Snakes,
Outsiders,
David McCallum,
Robert Wyatt,
The Real Kids,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.