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 Tuvalu and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Donald Fagen 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 The Monks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
The Knickerbockers,
Drexciya,
D'Angelo,
Gong,
Byron Stingily,
Minnie Riperton,
Al Stewart,
Piero Umiliani,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Sound,
Desert Stars,
Ohio Players,
Funkadelic,
Juan Atkins,
Pulsallama,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rites of Spring,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ludus,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Soft Cell,
Trumans Water,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fugazi,
Moss Icon,
Lalann,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Skarface,
Animal Collective,
The Music Machine,
Fatback Band,
Stiv Bators,
CMW,
Marmalade,
Delta 5,
Niagra,
The Litter,
Organ,
Sam Rivers,
The Associates,
The Mojo Men,
Ken Boothe,
Surgeon,
Nils Olav,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Monks,
Faust,
Cecil Taylor,
PIL,
The Doobie Brothers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mary Jane Girls,
Spoonie Gee,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Magazine,
Mr. Review,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.