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 Andorra 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Slave to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Darondo,
Technova,
The Trojans,
The Evens,
Gerry Rafferty,
Blake Baxter,
Colin Newman,
Andrew Hill,
Jeff Lynne,
John Coltrane,
Suburban Knight,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Neu!,
The New Christs,
Eden Ahbez,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
R.M.O.,
Joe Smooth,
Agitation Free,
Los Fastidios,
Matthew Halsall,
Drexciya,
Kerri Chandler,
Ornette Coleman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mr. Review,
Eric Dolphy,
Wasted Youth,
Anthony Braxton,
Arthur Verocai,
The Toasters,
Underground Resistance,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cal Tjader,
B.T. Express,
OOIOO,
Avey Tare,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Aswad,
Todd Rundgren,
James White and The Blacks,
Brass Construction,
Young Marble Giants,
Pere Ubu,
Slave,
ABC,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
David Axelrod,
Thompson Twins,
The Fuzztones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Harmonia,
Bad Manners,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Swell Maps,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Knickerbockers,
Vainqueur,
In Retrospect,
Marmalade,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.