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 Malawi and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Electric Prunes to the crunk 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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Aswad,
Fela Kuti,
New Age Steppers,
Monolake,
DJ Sneak,
The Gories,
Roxette,
Brick,
The Walker Brothers,
K-Klass,
Tom Boy,
Black Bananas,
Althea and Donna,
Suicide,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lower 48,
Marvin Gaye,
Japan,
Skaos,
Man Eating Sloth,
D'Angelo,
Nils Olav,
The Alarm Clocks,
Electric Prunes,
Henry Cow,
Qualms,
Byron Stingily,
Ponytail,
a-ha,
Gregory Isaacs,
Grauzone,
Connie Case,
The Doors,
Pole,
Flamin' Groovies,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sällskapet,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Matthew Bourne,
Harpers Bizarre,
Brand Nubian,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
June of 44,
Wally Richardson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Anakelly,
Curtis Mayfield,
Robert Wyatt,
John Cale,
Heaven 17,
Rites of Spring,
Nico,
Talk Talk,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The New Christs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.