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 Lithuania and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Sun City Girls,
Little Man,
The Fuzztones,
Mission of Burma,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Reagan Youth,
Warren Ellis,
Bobby Womack,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sonic Youth,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Last Poets,
Henry Cow,
Saccharine Trust,
Suburban Knight,
The Fugs,
Howard Jones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Slits,
The Offenders,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Motorama,
Moss Icon,
Niagra,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gastr Del Sol,
Buzzcocks,
The Monks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Deepchord,
Pole,
John Coltrane,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Maleditus Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
L. Decosne,
Nirvana,
Pagans,
Fad Gadget,
The Smoke,
Tropical Tobacco,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rod Modell,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tim Buckley,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Technova,
Scott Walker,
48th St. Collective,
Scientists,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Human League,
The Modern Lovers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Aural Exciters,
The Dirtbombs,
the Swans,
The Grass Roots,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.