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 Lesotho and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb 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 Crooked Eye to the jazz 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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Swans,
Ornette Coleman,
Intrusion,
Make Up,
Yellowson,
Lalann,
John Holt,
PIL,
a-ha,
Vladislav Delay,
cv313,
Jerry's Kids,
Rosa Yemen,
The Flesh Eaters,
Todd Rundgren,
Jesper Dahlback,
Q and Not U,
Minnie Riperton,
Mr. Review,
Sixth Finger,
The Smoke,
Bill Wells,
The Saints,
The Raincoats,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nick Fraelich,
X-101,
Mandrill,
Hoover,
Essential Logic,
Sällskapet,
The Moody Blues,
The Residents,
Marine Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Public Enemy,
Tres Demented,
Bad Manners,
Neu!,
The Sonics,
Parry Music,
Sun Ra,
Symarip,
The Smiths,
Inner City,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
U.S. Maple,
Pagans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Howard Jones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marshall Jefferson,
Index,
Lakeside,
Trumans Water,
Crime,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.