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 Haiti and from Sao Paulo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cheater Slicks to the techno 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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Robert Görl,
Juan Atkins,
Patti Smith,
Rites of Spring,
Rod Modell,
The Red Krayola,
The Stooges,
ABBA,
Marshall Jefferson,
June Days,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Visage,
Soul Sonic Force,
Isaac Hayes,
Blake Baxter,
Carl Craig,
The Smiths,
Mark Hollis,
The Tremeloes,
Sex Pistols,
Trumans Water,
Average White Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Searchers,
The Electric Prunes,
John Holt,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
cv313,
The Techniques,
James White and The Blacks,
Essential Logic,
Radio Birdman,
Avey Tare,
Accadde A,
The Motions,
Swell Maps,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kenny Larkin,
Suburban Knight,
The Slits,
Surgeon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gong,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Knickerbockers,
Sam Rivers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bill Near,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Smog,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Buckinghams,
Hasil Adkins,
Jimmy McGriff,
Organ,
Steve Hackett,
Kurtis Blow,
Nik Kershaw,
Rapeman,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.