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 Belarus and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Visage to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Howard Jones,
Wolf Eyes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The United States of America,
Mr. Review,
The Saints,
Fela Kuti,
Q and Not U,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Brand Nubian,
Aswad,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Sound,
The Fortunes,
Public Image Ltd.,
La Düsseldorf,
The Real Kids,
Cybotron,
Desert Stars,
Trumans Water,
The Blackbyrds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Newcleus,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sex Pistols,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Slits,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Basic Channel,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barbara Tucker,
Quando Quango,
Derrick Morgan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Skriet,
Robert Hood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Chrome,
Joy Division,
The Divine Comedy,
Davy DMX,
The Happenings,
Cheater Slicks,
Toni Rubio,
Crime,
Scratch Acid,
Yaz,
The Walker Brothers,
Pagans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Toasters,
Black Sheep,
Warsaw,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Aaron Thompson,
Sandy B,
Vladislav Delay,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.