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 Israel and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kerrie Biddell to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Sonic Youth,
Soft Machine,
Cluster,
Pylon,
Electric Prunes,
The Smiths,
Sugar Minott,
Fela Kuti,
The Angels of Light,
Suburban Knight,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Music Machine,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Smog,
The Monks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
James White and The Blacks,
Wire,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Agent Orange,
Urselle,
Gastr Del Sol,
Colin Newman,
Country Teasers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cramps,
The Saints,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Nik Kershaw,
The Mummies,
Model 500,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Slackers,
Dual Sessions,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Boz Scaggs,
L. Decosne,
Accadde A,
The American Breed,
The Buckinghams,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Robert Görl,
Quantec,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Slits,
Ralphi Rosario,
Charles Mingus,
Iggy Pop,
Negative Approach,
Susan Cadogan,
Al Stewart,
Duran Duran,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.