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 Malta and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Rufus Thomas to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Con Funk Shun,
Tres Demented,
The Angels of Light,
Archie Shepp,
Camouflage,
Inner City,
Crash Course in Science,
Quantec,
Pantytec,
Iggy Pop,
Chris & Cosey,
The Tremeloes,
Neu!,
The Fortunes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sarah Menescal,
Albert Ayler,
Q65,
Slick Rick,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Moebius,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hasil Adkins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Colin Newman,
Theoretical Girls,
Jacques Brel,
Neil Young,
U.S. Maple,
The Young Rascals,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Blackbyrds,
The Saints,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Moby Grape,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brothers Johnson,
Vainqueur,
Shoche,
The Red Krayola,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Move,
The Count Five,
Prince Buster,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Reuben Wilson,
Henry Cow,
Maleditus Sound,
Eurythmics,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joensuu 1685,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ludus,
Boz Scaggs,
The Golliwogs,
Smog,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.