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 Malaysia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ludus to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats 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 '70s 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 Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Soul II Soul,
Glenn Branca,
Angry Samoans,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Bar-Kays,
The Divine Comedy,
Khruangbin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sexual Harrassment,
Popol Vuh,
The Busters,
Dawn Penn,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Mars,
It's A Beautiful Day,
June of 44,
Tom Boy,
Flamin' Groovies,
CMW,
Black Sheep,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Deakin,
Bluetip,
Hoover,
Drexciya,
EPMD,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Young Rascals,
Fatback Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Selecter,
Aural Exciters,
JFA,
Surgeon,
Rufus Thomas,
Cal Tjader,
Oblivians,
The Vogues,
The Searchers,
Eddi Front,
Camberwell Now,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Howard Jones,
The Real Kids,
Cecil Taylor,
Boredoms,
The Five Americans,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eve St. Jones,
Joey Negro,
Wings,
Vainqueur,
Jeff Mills,
The Move,
Flash Fearless,
Rekid,
Soft Cell,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.