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 Turkmenistan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
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 organ 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 Angels of Light to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jawbox,
Pylon,
The Human League,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Divine Comedy,
K-Klass,
OOIOO,
Terry Callier,
Hashim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alphaville,
Y Pants,
Echospace,
Electric Prunes,
Hoover,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wire,
Lakeside,
James White and The Blacks,
Crash Course in Science,
Mantronix,
Quadrant,
Radio Birdman,
Monolake,
Oneida,
Peter & Gordon,
Ponytail,
the Human League,
Main Source,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pere Ubu,
This Heat,
Sparks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Frankie Knuckles,
H. Thieme,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fatback Band,
Barrington Levy,
Dave Gahan,
The Electric Prunes,
The Smoke,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lou Christie,
Mo-Dettes,
Reagan Youth,
Swans,
Surgeon,
The Cure,
Deepchord,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Golliwogs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ultra Naté,
Peter and Kerry,
Simply Red,
Blake Baxter,
48th St. Collective,
Black Bananas,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.