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 United States and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 clarinet 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 Robert Hood to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Subhumans,
The Music Machine,
Mark Hollis,
Erykah Badu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Blossom Toes,
Spoonie Gee,
Michelle Simonal,
One Last Wish,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Mummies,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Heaven 17,
Yellowson,
Crime,
Clear Light,
Harmonia,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marmalade,
Porter Ricks,
Arthur Verocai,
DNA,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Japan,
June of 44,
Wire,
Alton Ellis,
Schoolly D,
The Durutti Column,
Cal Tjader,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fall,
Peter and Kerry,
Amazonics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Byron Stingily,
Aaron Thompson,
Joy Division,
Echospace,
K-Klass,
The Martian,
Chris Corsano,
Smog,
The Angels of Light,
Bluetip,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Slackers,
R.M.O.,
The Tremeloes,
Mr. Review,
The Pretty Things,
Khruangbin,
10cc,
Deadbeat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Q65,
Buzzcocks,
Brothers Johnson,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.