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 Burundi and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Idris Muhammad,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Harry Pussy,
Clear Light,
Heaven 17,
Reuben Wilson,
Crime,
Barrington Levy,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Red Krayola,
Eli Mardock,
FM Einheit,
The Index,
B.T. Express,
John Cale,
Colin Newman,
AZ,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultravox,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Young Rascals,
Aswad,
Davy DMX,
Todd Terry,
Wasted Youth,
L. Decosne,
Main Source,
Sex Pistols,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ituana,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Residents,
The Vogues,
June Days,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Flash Fearless,
Graham Central Station,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Saints,
Section 25,
The Toasters,
Letta Mbulu,
Ludus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
the Bar-Kays,
ABBA,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ornette Coleman,
Kerri Chandler,
Althea and Donna,
Soulsonic Force,
Mary Jane Girls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Toni Rubio,
LL Cool J,
Godley & Creme,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Freddie Wadling,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.