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 Laos and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron 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 organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lou Christie,
Judy Mowatt,
X-Ray Spex,
Pantaleimon,
The Last Poets,
Darondo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Unrelated Segments,
Lalann,
Agitation Free,
Bronski Beat,
Scott Walker,
Arab on Radar,
The Searchers,
Peter and Kerry,
Severed Heads,
10cc,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Leaves,
Bob Dylan,
Electric Prunes,
Easy Going,
Faraquet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Infiniti,
Visage,
Nirvana,
Yaz,
Das Ding,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Los Fastidios,
The Sonics,
The Blackbyrds,
Harry Pussy,
Mark Hollis,
Grey Daturas,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Index,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Monochrome Set,
Toni Rubio,
Liliput,
John Cale,
The American Breed,
Schoolly D,
The Divine Comedy,
Lakeside,
The Techniques,
Tropical Tobacco,
Todd Terry,
Hashim,
Joyce Sims,
Intrusion,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Oneida,
Kerrie Biddell,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Flag,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.