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 Nigeria 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Donald Byrd to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Subhumans,
Porter Ricks,
Electric Prunes,
Leonard Cohen,
Whodini,
Crime,
Cecil Taylor,
The Doors,
Cluster,
The Pop Group,
Suicide,
John Coltrane,
Amazonics,
Althea and Donna,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jeff Mills,
Accadde A,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Angels of Light,
Graham Central Station,
Jawbox,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Grey Daturas,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bad Manners,
The Modern Lovers,
The Star Department,
Marmalade,
Saccharine Trust,
Wire,
The Move,
Agent Orange,
Gabor Szabo,
Mandrill,
Adolescents,
Roger Hodgson,
Jandek,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gichy Dan,
The New Christs,
Black Pus,
T. Rex,
Scott Walker,
The Young Rascals,
Alison Limerick,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gun Club,
Moebius,
La Düsseldorf,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lindisfarne,
The Buckinghams,
Groovy Waters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Moss Icon,
Lightning Bolt,
the Germs,
Talk Talk,
Marcia Griffiths,
Soft Cell,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.