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 Georgia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
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 spring reverb 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the rap 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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
The Music Machine,
Judy Mowatt,
Mark Hollis,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kaleidoscope,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
June of 44,
Scientists,
Tubeway Army,
The Standells,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sound Behaviour,
Sun Ra,
Skaos,
Gang of Four,
The Walker Brothers,
Robert Hood,
The Pop Group,
Henry Cow,
Aural Exciters,
Man Parrish,
T. Rex,
Ohio Players,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Dave Clark Five,
June Days,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dawn Penn,
Aloha Tigers,
The Modern Lovers,
John Coltrane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jawbox,
Soft Cell,
Make Up,
Subhumans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Goldenarms,
Television,
L. Decosne,
Talk Talk,
Andrew Hill,
Oblivians,
Godley & Creme,
The Gap Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Reed,
The Toasters,
The Monks,
Severed Heads,
The Count Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lyres,
Ten City,
Massinfluence,
Robert Wyatt,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.