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 Laos and from New York.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Mandrill to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Eddi Front,
Soul II Soul,
Bush Tetras,
The Neon Judgement,
Tres Demented,
Neil Young,
The Tremeloes,
The Barracudas,
Animal Collective,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Sonics,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Soulsonic Force,
Bauhaus,
Man Parrish,
Lalo Schifrin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Golliwogs,
Siglo XX,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Porter Ricks,
Altered Images,
The Birthday Party,
Nils Olav,
Swell Maps,
Girls At Our Best!,
Magma,
the Soft Cell,
Accadde A,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Sherman,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Graham Central Station,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lee Hazlewood,
Inner City,
Con Funk Shun,
Talk Talk,
Warsaw,
Jacob Miller,
Fear,
Ice-T,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sällskapet,
Robert Wyatt,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brand Nubian,
Saccharine Trust,
The Walker Brothers,
The Searchers,
The Smiths,
Das Ding,
Ludus,
Scott Walker,
Sister Nancy,
June Days,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.