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 Brazil and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Brothers Johnson to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Remains,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Silicon Teens,
Ultravox,
Yusef Lateef,
Sandy B,
H. Thieme,
Erykah Badu,
Porter Ricks,
Iggy Pop,
Sparks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Prince Buster,
Japan,
Lindisfarne,
Buzzcocks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Talk Talk,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Audionom,
Deadbeat,
The Human League,
DJ Sneak,
Rapeman,
The Selecter,
Sister Nancy,
Erasure,
Amon Düül II,
Heaven 17,
a-ha,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pussy Galore,
Jerry's Kids,
Davy DMX,
Tim Buckley,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Germs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roxette,
DNA,
Grandmaster Flash,
Television,
Franke,
Marc Almond,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Henry Cow,
Eve St. Jones,
John Holt,
Banda Bassotti,
Scan 7,
Kas Product,
The Slackers,
Sight & Sound,
Section 25,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.