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 Libya and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Winnipeg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the rap 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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ornette Coleman,
L. Decosne,
cv313,
Tropical Tobacco,
Harry Pussy,
Echospace,
Fear,
Model 500,
The New Christs,
John Holt,
Dennis Brown,
Ronnie Foster,
John Lydon,
The Last Poets,
Don Cherry,
Charles Mingus,
The Cowsills,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Beau Brummels,
Iggy Pop,
The Sonics,
Bobby Sherman,
Barbara Tucker,
Glambeats Corp.,
Judy Mowatt,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Liliput,
Underground Resistance,
James Chance & The Contortions,
X-101,
The Durutti Column,
The Neon Judgement,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ponytail,
Barrington Levy,
Lungfish,
Erykah Badu,
Cluster,
OOIOO,
One Last Wish,
Bush Tetras,
Hashim,
8 Eyed Spy,
Yusef Lateef,
The Dirtbombs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grandmaster Flash,
E-Dancer,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Smoke,
Swans,
Scientists,
Maurizio,
the Swans,
Dawn Penn,
The Fuzztones,
Young Marble Giants,
Nirvana,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.