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 Malta and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro 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 the Sonics to the punk 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Ten City,
UT,
The Gun Club,
Whodini,
Tom Boy,
Byron Stingily,
Janne Schatter,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sällskapet,
The American Breed,
Peter & Gordon,
EPMD,
L. Decosne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Shoche,
Brand Nubian,
Sister Nancy,
Tears for Fears,
Flipper,
Hardrive,
T.S.O.L.,
Ludus,
Josef K,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eve St. Jones,
Main Source,
Lightning Bolt,
Sonny Sharrock,
Unrelated Segments,
Mandrill,
Tres Demented,
Niagra,
The Durutti Column,
Scott Walker,
Agent Orange,
Iggy Pop,
Sam Rivers,
David Axelrod,
The New Christs,
Loose Ends,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Silicon Teens,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gang of Four,
Bauhaus,
China Crisis,
Connie Case,
DNA,
Khruangbin,
Sixth Finger,
Joy Division,
Mark Hollis,
The Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Technova,
Nico,
Das Ding,
Yazoo,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.