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 New Zealand and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Harmonia to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Fad Gadget,
Pet Shop Boys,
Amon Düül,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Index,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cal Tjader,
Scion,
Urselle,
Eddi Front,
The Monks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Y Pants,
Idris Muhammad,
Rapeman,
Brass Construction,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Procol Harum,
Gong,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Excepter,
Robert Görl,
The J.B.'s,
Harmonia,
Subhumans,
Godley & Creme,
Soft Cell,
Mark Hollis,
New Age Steppers,
The Last Poets,
Lakeside,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fall,
Pole,
B.T. Express,
Marine Girls,
The Smoke,
Con Funk Shun,
Howard Jones,
Spoonie Gee,
Ronnie Foster,
Scrapy,
Chrome,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ten City,
Neil Young,
Fugazi,
Shuggie Otis,
Television,
Oneida,
Ituana,
ABBA,
Magma,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Brand Nubian,
Radio Birdman,
The Fugs,
Electric Prunes,
The Gladiators,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.