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 Mali and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lalann to the punk 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tommy Roe,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fela Kuti,
The Pretty Things,
Faust,
Ludus,
The Slackers,
The Tremeloes,
The Cowsills,
Lightning Bolt,
The Leaves,
Funky Four + One,
The Fortunes,
Radiohead,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
EPMD,
Monolake,
Franke,
The Index,
Hot Snakes,
Mission of Burma,
the Germs,
The Buckinghams,
Cluster,
the Normal,
Judy Mowatt,
Mark Hollis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eric B and Rakim,
DJ Sneak,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang of Four,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
R.M.O.,
Joe Smooth,
The Wake,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Gap Band,
Nick Fraelich,
The Monochrome Set,
The Zeros,
Kenny Larkin,
Bauhaus,
Gang Starr,
kango's stein massive,
Heaven 17,
Lalo Schifrin,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aaron Thompson,
Supertramp,
The Fall,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Stiv Bators,
The Vogues,
Index,
Depeche Mode,
Ten City,
Dawn Penn,
Scan 7,
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.