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 Guinea and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eddi Front to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
B.T. Express,
Heaven 17,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Womack,
Kurtis Blow,
the Slits,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rapeman,
Eurythmics,
Hashim,
X-Ray Spex,
The Vogues,
The Associates,
Sun City Girls,
Chris Corsano,
Mark Hollis,
Sixth Finger,
Amon Düül II,
Howard Jones,
Main Source,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eli Mardock,
Freddie Wadling,
JFA,
Dual Sessions,
Cameo,
Maurizio,
Jandek,
Oblivians,
The Last Poets,
Cheater Slicks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Standells,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Royal Trux,
The Slits,
The Techniques,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joy Division,
Kayak,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Coltrane,
Subhumans,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Brothers Johnson,
Organ,
Ten City,
Absolute Body Control,
Trumans Water,
Tubeway Army,
Minutemen,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Von Mondo,
MDC,
The Detroit Cobras,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Starr,
Crispy Ambulance,
PIL,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.