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 South Africa and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Maurizio to the rap 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Barclay James Harvest,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
New York Dolls,
The Modern Lovers,
Tim Buckley,
Camberwell Now,
Panda Bear,
Kool Moe Dee,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Erasure,
The Fall,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Vainqueur,
LL Cool J,
Lakeside,
Hardrive,
AZ,
Porter Ricks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rotary Connection,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dave Gahan,
Rapeman,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Selecter,
The Real Kids,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gladiators,
David Bowie,
Ludus,
David McCallum,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Vladislav Delay,
Sound Behaviour,
The Dirtbombs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Archie Shepp,
Fear,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Matthew Halsall,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlback,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Stetsasonic,
Depeche Mode,
Franke,
Talk Talk,
Cameo,
Howard Jones,
H. Thieme,
Scion,
Sight & Sound,
The Move,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.