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 Jordan and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Charles Mingus to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Index,
the Slits,
The Searchers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Minutemen,
Mad Mike,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Moody Blues,
Fela Kuti,
The Cramps,
The Selecter,
Make Up,
Young Marble Giants,
The Litter,
The Remains,
Arab on Radar,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Trojans,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Pretty Things,
Fatback Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Derrick May,
DNA,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Agitation Free,
The Smiths,
Porter Ricks,
Steve Hackett,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Oblivians,
Girls At Our Best!,
Magazine,
Gang Starr,
Electric Prunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
China Crisis,
Derrick Morgan,
The Black Dice,
Arthur Verocai,
Pantytec,
Cybotron,
Janne Schatter,
The Five Americans,
Lindisfarne,
Bootsy Collins,
Matthew Bourne,
Surgeon,
Dead Boys,
Silicon Teens,
Skriet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pere Ubu,
Vladislav Delay,
Amazonics,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scan 7,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.