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 China and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 arpeggiator 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 R.M.O. to the crunk 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
The Index,
Desert Stars,
Faraquet,
Gastr Del Sol,
JFA,
UT,
Howard Jones,
The Remains,
Smog,
Lakeside,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang Green,
Chris Corsano,
The Alarm Clocks,
CMW,
Kenny Larkin,
Public Image Ltd.,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ituana,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Newcleus,
The Sonics,
Malaria!,
Ultravox,
Letta Mbulu,
Don Cherry,
Leonard Cohen,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bootsy Collins,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Japan,
Bobby Sherman,
John Holt,
X-Ray Spex,
The Offenders,
Barbara Tucker,
The Buckinghams,
Boz Scaggs,
the Germs,
Khruangbin,
Fat Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
Maleditus Sound,
Agitation Free,
U.S. Maple,
Michelle Simonal,
The Divine Comedy,
The Fuzztones,
Piero Umiliani,
Buzzcocks,
The Pretty Things,
Saccharine Trust,
John Lydon,
Andrew Hill,
Swell Maps,
The Flesh Eaters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.