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 Gabon and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Houston.
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 Tom Verlaine 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Darondo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeff Mills,
The Blackbyrds,
Barry Ungar,
Section 25,
Byron Stingily,
Laurel Aitken,
Graham Central Station,
T. Rex,
Dorothy Ashby,
Negative Approach,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fire Engines,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott Heron,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bill Wells,
Maleditus Sound,
Soul II Soul,
The Seeds,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Television,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marc Almond,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Trojans,
The Young Rascals,
Crooked Eye,
The Sisters of Mercy,
James White and The Blacks,
The United States of America,
Fat Boys,
Can,
The Smoke,
Crash Course in Science,
Second Layer,
cv313,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Faraquet,
Freddie Wadling,
Gong,
Joey Negro,
Country Teasers,
D'Angelo,
the Soft Cell,
Malaria!,
Zero Boys,
Technova,
Scrapy,
H. Thieme,
The Monochrome Set,
Marshall Jefferson,
Brand Nubian,
Flamin' Groovies,
Yusef Lateef,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.