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 Dominica and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 punk 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders 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 a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Dead Boys,
The Doors,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Oneida,
John Coltrane,
F. McDonald,
Bush Tetras,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ludus,
Dual Sessions,
Joy Division,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Index,
Sister Nancy,
Michelle Simonal,
The Golliwogs,
The Tremeloes,
Porter Ricks,
Skarface,
Rakim,
Ornette Coleman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
UT,
Buzzcocks,
Suicide,
MC5,
Joyce Sims,
Vladislav Delay,
Rufus Thomas,
The Young Rascals,
Symarip,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jawbox,
The Fortunes,
Main Source,
The Wake,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Buckinghams,
a-ha,
Eurythmics,
Eli Mardock,
Amazonics,
Au Pairs,
Qualms,
Man Eating Sloth,
JFA,
Arab on Radar,
Desert Stars,
the Normal,
Sällskapet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dennis Brown,
Al Stewart,
Idris Muhammad,
Tom Boy,
Mandrill,
Slick Rick,
Rekid,
Cecil Taylor,
Tubeway Army,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.