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 Burkina and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba 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 Al Stewart to the disco 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Magazine,
Pierre Henry,
Brick,
The Birthday Party,
Main Source,
The Selecter,
Franke,
The Moody Blues,
Section 25,
Eddi Front,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Delta 5,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Coltrane,
Girls At Our Best!,
Crispian St. Peters,
Piero Umiliani,
Bill Wells,
Pere Ubu,
The Names,
Ituana,
CMW,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Count Five,
Johnny Osbourne,
X-102,
Radio Birdman,
The Music Machine,
The Doors,
Stockholm Monsters,
David Axelrod,
Vladislav Delay,
Maleditus Sound,
Juan Atkins,
Theoretical Girls,
The Gladiators,
Danielle Patucci,
Joy Division,
Avey Tare,
X-Ray Spex,
Buzzcocks,
The Mummies,
Funkadelic,
Easy Going,
The Motions,
cv313,
Skaos,
Procol Harum,
Eden Ahbez,
Bad Manners,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fluxion,
The Vogues,
Neil Young,
Archie Shepp,
Ten City,
Public Enemy,
Wings,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crash Course in Science,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.