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 Spain and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Joey Negro 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Big Daddy Kane,
Make Up,
Skriet,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fugazi,
The Monochrome Set,
Basic Channel,
Danielle Patucci,
Pharoah Sanders,
Man Parrish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bizarre Inc.,
Radio Birdman,
The Mojo Men,
Scratch Acid,
Pantytec,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minny Pops,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nils Olav,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Smoke,
Toni Rubio,
Derrick Morgan,
The Techniques,
Black Flag,
Underground Resistance,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lindisfarne,
Masters at Work,
Loose Ends,
Rekid,
Sonic Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Charles Mingus,
Intrusion,
Vladislav Delay,
Faraquet,
The Zeros,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bootsy Collins,
Kerri Chandler,
The Beau Brummels,
Eden Ahbez,
Los Fastidios,
Crispian St. Peters,
Babytalk,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barbara Tucker,
DNA,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fat Boys,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sugar Minott,
the Soft Cell,
Funkadelic,
Young Marble Giants,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.