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 Bangladesh and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 The Beau Brummels to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Yaz,
Donald Byrd,
Harpers Bizarre,
DJ Sneak,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sparks,
Arthur Verocai,
PIL,
Howard Jones,
Barrington Levy,
Stereo Dub,
Matthew Bourne,
Banda Bassotti,
Kenny Larkin,
Yusef Lateef,
Parry Music,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Electric Prunes,
Jerry's Kids,
The Evens,
Hardrive,
Marvin Gaye,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Silicon Teens,
Wire,
Nico,
Surgeon,
Supertramp,
Easy Going,
Quadrant,
Moby Grape,
Alphaville,
Glenn Branca,
K-Klass,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Symarip,
Tomorrow,
The Seeds,
Lucky Dragons,
Idris Muhammad,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Tremeloes,
Stiv Bators,
Marc Almond,
Ossler,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Smiths,
The Dead C,
Hoover,
Gang Green,
Marmalade,
UT,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Inner City,
The Real Kids,
Siglo XX,
Freddie Wadling,
Gichy Dan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Malaria!,
Amon Düül,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.