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 St Lucia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mexico City.
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 808 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 Subhumans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Popol Vuh,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Excepter,
Tears for Fears,
Gong,
This Heat,
Brick,
Qualms,
The Vogues,
Can,
Rosa Yemen,
Quadrant,
Vainqueur,
Scan 7,
The Barracudas,
Theoretical Girls,
Mars,
Agent Orange,
Black Bananas,
The Index,
Derrick May,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Motions,
Talk Talk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mr. Review,
Donny Hathaway,
Eurythmics,
DJ Style,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Bar-Kays,
Arab on Radar,
Saccharine Trust,
Joey Negro,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Pretty Things,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sun Ra,
The Misunderstood,
Oblivians,
Maurizio,
Q and Not U,
Franke,
Little Man,
Bob Dylan,
Amazonics,
Average White Band,
Carl Craig,
Anakelly,
Traffic Nightmare,
T.S.O.L.,
Y Pants,
Barrington Levy,
Zapp,
The Golliwogs,
Donald Byrd,
The Offenders,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sam Rivers,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.