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 Afghanistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Terrestrial Tones to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wire,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mad Mike,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fear,
The Neon Judgement,
Ronan,
Rufus Thomas,
Sixth Finger,
Niagra,
Hashim,
The Star Department,
Todd Rundgren,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ituana,
Porter Ricks,
The Motions,
Public Enemy,
Iggy Pop,
John Lydon,
Cal Tjader,
The Blues Magoos,
Circle Jerks,
Bad Manners,
Livin' Joy,
The Gladiators,
Supertramp,
Brothers Johnson,
Anakelly,
Morten Harket,
Aural Exciters,
Isaac Hayes,
The Litter,
ABBA,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Black Sheep,
E-Dancer,
Maurizio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quadrant,
Pantaleimon,
Schoolly D,
Essential Logic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crooked Eye,
Jeff Mills,
The Barracudas,
The Invisible,
The New Christs,
Magma,
Lightning Bolt,
The J.B.'s,
Pussy Galore,
Skarface,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Black Pus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.