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 Monaco and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Black Flag,
Minutemen,
the Association,
Essential Logic,
Peter and Kerry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soul II Soul,
Rekid,
Toni Rubio,
Hasil Adkins,
Parry Music,
Rufus Thomas,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
T.S.O.L.,
Donald Byrd,
The Skatalites,
D'Angelo,
Joyce Sims,
Ituana,
Grandmaster Flash,
The New Christs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bootsy Collins,
A Certain Ratio,
Gang of Four,
Slave,
Pole,
Clear Light,
The Velvet Underground,
Interpol,
Popol Vuh,
Bang On A Can,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sarah Menescal,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bill Wells,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Quantec,
Funky Four + One,
Traffic Nightmare,
OOIOO,
Laurel Aitken,
Grauzone,
Brick,
Aloha Tigers,
Altered Images,
The Misunderstood,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Moody Blues,
Flash Fearless,
The Dirtbombs,
Sandy B,
the Germs,
Easy Going,
Animal Collective,
The Red Krayola,
Sun Ra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.