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 Chile and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 theremin 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kerri Chandler,
The Walker Brothers,
David Bowie,
Graham Central Station,
Wolf Eyes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bang On A Can,
Aswad,
Moebius,
Avey Tare,
The Cramps,
Stockholm Monsters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tears for Fears,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Doors,
Little Man,
Scott Walker,
Blake Baxter,
The Smiths,
Marshall Jefferson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Quantec,
Harry Pussy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Chris Corsano,
The Blackbyrds,
This Heat,
Skaos,
Public Image Ltd.,
Terrestrial Tones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Todd Terry,
The Buckinghams,
Duran Duran,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Siglo XX,
Mad Mike,
the Bar-Kays,
Jeff Mills,
Anthony Braxton,
Babytalk,
Absolute Body Control,
AZ,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gichy Dan,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Deepchord,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gong,
Mo-Dettes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Con Funk Shun,
Buzzcocks,
Derrick Morgan,
Bush Tetras,
Mandrill,
Andrew Hill,
The Gun Club,
the Soft Cell,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.