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 Taiwan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the funk 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
MC5,
Bush Tetras,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Chris Corsano,
Suicide,
Letta Mbulu,
Subhumans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Matthew Halsall,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gong,
Jerry's Kids,
The Mummies,
Tommy Roe,
Organ,
Sex Pistols,
The Young Rascals,
Morten Harket,
Sixth Finger,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Section 25,
Marc Almond,
The Sonics,
Liliput,
Minor Threat,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gang of Four,
Simply Red,
Talk Talk,
Amon Düül,
Scion,
Skriet,
The Invisible,
Bobby Byrd,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Bar-Kays,
Porter Ricks,
Brand Nubian,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marmalade,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lightning Bolt,
Dual Sessions,
Bill Near,
The Selecter,
The Slits,
The Doors,
Fear,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Knickerbockers,
Althea and Donna,
Amazonics,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Crooked Eye,
Deepchord,
Connie Case,
The Mojo Men,
Cal Tjader,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.