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 Bahrain and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 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 New York 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 chamberlin 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 Amazonics to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Qualms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
DJ Style,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bad Manners,
Eve St. Jones,
Andrew Hill,
F. McDonald,
Wolf Eyes,
Eurythmics,
Liliput,
The Electric Prunes,
Zapp,
Dave Gahan,
Nik Kershaw,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Matthew Halsall,
Tim Buckley,
Sugar Minott,
Minor Threat,
The Trojans,
The Beau Brummels,
Eli Mardock,
The Pretty Things,
Rakim,
Ronan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Funky Four + One,
Stetsasonic,
World's Most,
Soft Cell,
Pussy Galore,
The Happenings,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Infiniti,
Outsiders,
Fela Kuti,
Aaron Thompson,
Agitation Free,
Sixth Finger,
Roy Ayers,
The Pop Group,
Eric Dolphy,
Rotary Connection,
Bush Tetras,
Gabor Szabo,
Gang of Four,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Organ,
Byron Stingily,
Todd Rundgren,
Ohio Players,
Pylon,
Sun Ra,
John Lydon,
K-Klass,
Dennis Brown,
Newcleus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thee Headcoats,
Wings,
Marc Almond,
Inner City,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.