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 Sudan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the electroclash 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
The Velvet Underground,
Jacques Brel,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Byron Stingily,
Ice-T,
Donny Hathaway,
JFA,
Maurizio,
Half Japanese,
Crime,
Adolescents,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Depeche Mode,
Faraquet,
The Angels of Light,
Johnny Osbourne,
D'Angelo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Moon,
Boogie Down Productions,
Todd Rundgren,
John Foxx,
Joey Negro,
Oneida,
Monks,
Kenny Larkin,
The Divine Comedy,
Television Personalities,
The Alarm Clocks,
Brass Construction,
Visage,
The Electric Prunes,
Altered Images,
Fela Kuti,
Sparks,
Pere Ubu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Frankie Knuckles,
Amazonics,
The New Christs,
Livin' Joy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Dirtbombs,
Desert Stars,
Susan Cadogan,
Robert Hood,
Derrick May,
Whodini,
Black Flag,
Pantytec,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aswad,
Roxette,
Bluetip,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eric Dolphy,
The Victims,
Roy Ayers,
Severed Heads,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.