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 Bangladesh and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 David Bowie 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 The Happenings to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Young Marble Giants,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Curtis Mayfield,
David McCallum,
The Raincoats,
Ultra Naté,
Absolute Body Control,
Visage,
Desert Stars,
Rufus Thomas,
Ice-T,
Quando Quango,
Bush Tetras,
Robert Hood,
Throbbing Gristle,
Minnie Riperton,
Barry Ungar,
Davy DMX,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Glambeats Corp.,
Technova,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Neu!,
The Searchers,
Blancmange,
Surgeon,
Sonic Youth,
CMW,
Schoolly D,
The Sonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sight & Sound,
Sandy B,
June Days,
Q and Not U,
John Lydon,
Minor Threat,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eve St. Jones,
World's Most,
Robert Wyatt,
Bang On A Can,
Johnny Clarke,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fat Boys,
Man Eating Sloth,
The New Christs,
Soul II Soul,
Urselle,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brass Construction,
Jandek,
Ohio Players,
Lou Reed,
Jeff Mills,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.