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 Chad and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Infiniti to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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 Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marmalade,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Excepter,
Swans,
Scratch Acid,
Pussy Galore,
Tim Buckley,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Funkadelic,
Flipper,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Blancmange,
The Pretty Things,
Los Fastidios,
Eve St. Jones,
June Days,
Symarip,
Ken Boothe,
Eden Ahbez,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Electric Prunes,
a-ha,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Japan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grey Daturas,
Talk Talk,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hot Snakes,
Sixth Finger,
E-Dancer,
The Raincoats,
Sonic Youth,
Q and Not U,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
CMW,
Mission of Burma,
Lyres,
Television,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Adolescents,
Soul Sonic Force,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Beasts of Bourbon,
OOIOO,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sparks,
Davy DMX,
Inner City,
Idris Muhammad,
Marshall Jefferson,
Niagra,
Dual Sessions,
Hoover,
The Trojans,
Joe Finger,
The Names,
Khruangbin,
Crash Course in Science,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.