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 Honduras and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Nile Rodgers 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Görl record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wings,
Stereo Dub,
Excepter,
Roxette,
Alice Coltrane,
Hoover,
The Fall,
Cybotron,
Tubeway Army,
Sarah Menescal,
The Fugs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Slackers,
The Trojans,
The Saints,
Pierre Henry,
Sandy B,
The Knickerbockers,
Aaron Thompson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
This Heat,
X-101,
Quando Quango,
The Moody Blues,
Absolute Body Control,
Sun City Girls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Joe Finger,
Althea and Donna,
ABBA,
Suicide,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Motions,
Altered Images,
Alphaville,
Marvin Gaye,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Anakelly,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Minutemen,
Rites of Spring,
Wasted Youth,
Second Layer,
Darondo,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gories,
Pere Ubu,
Danielle Patucci,
Soul II Soul,
Pussy Galore,
D'Angelo,
Ponytail,
Desert Stars,
Scientists,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marine Girls,
Rakim,
Davy DMX,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.