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 Kiribati and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Suicide to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Livin' Joy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Slick Rick,
Aaron Thompson,
Bang On A Can,
Youth Brigade,
Inner City,
The Electric Prunes,
Panda Bear,
The Modern Lovers,
Leonard Cohen,
Wings,
Tomorrow,
The Five Americans,
Pulsallama,
Hot Snakes,
Hashim,
Delta 5,
Ituana,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Evens,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Darondo,
K-Klass,
Camberwell Now,
The Techniques,
U.S. Maple,
The Walker Brothers,
DJ Style,
Sam Rivers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Q65,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Coltrane,
Dead Boys,
Sandy B,
Freddie Wadling,
Mission of Burma,
Ossler,
Popol Vuh,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lower 48,
Bauhaus,
Schoolly D,
Interpol,
Kaleidoscope,
Harmonia,
Bobby Sherman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Derrick Morgan,
The Cramps,
Al Stewart,
Parry Music,
Sexual Harrassment,
Accadde A,
Sun City Girls,
The Happenings,
Mandrill,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.