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 Uruguay and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cramps to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Ronan,
Godley & Creme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bad Manners,
Quando Quango,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pantaleimon,
John Cale,
Howard Jones,
Sister Nancy,
Warsaw,
Arab on Radar,
These Immortal Souls,
Eden Ahbez,
The Beau Brummels,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cybotron,
The Monks,
Babytalk,
The Raincoats,
A Certain Ratio,
Unrelated Segments,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Masters at Work,
The Cowsills,
Sight & Sound,
Accadde A,
Zapp,
The Busters,
Pole,
Nik Kershaw,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Dead C,
The Angels of Light,
Niagra,
Saccharine Trust,
Shuggie Otis,
Girls At Our Best!,
ABC,
Scott Walker,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Kinks,
Derrick Morgan,
The Young Rascals,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Liliput,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scratch Acid,
New Age Steppers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pylon,
Rotary Connection,
Lalann,
David McCallum,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultra Naté,
Scientists,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Brothers Johnson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.