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 Micronesia and from London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Invisible to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Pet Shop Boys,
Can,
Aswad,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
AZ,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Deakin,
Dorothy Ashby,
Half Japanese,
Swans,
Crooked Eye,
The Sound,
Rosa Yemen,
Jacques Brel,
Echospace,
Electric Prunes,
The Misunderstood,
MC5,
Kenny Larkin,
Accadde A,
Visage,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Circle Jerks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Patti Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
Qualms,
Public Enemy,
Eurythmics,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Idris Muhammad,
Ossler,
the Association,
Main Source,
Lou Christie,
R.M.O.,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mary Jane Girls,
Darondo,
Underground Resistance,
Lalann,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pantaleimon,
Harmonia,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Theoretical Girls,
Charles Mingus,
The Cowsills,
Lyres,
Groovy Waters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Harry Pussy,
The Fortunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Simply Red,
World's Most,
MDC,
The Zeros,
Slick Rick,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.