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 Gabon and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
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 linndrum 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 Hot Snakes to the rock 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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Swell Maps,
Soft Cell,
Duran Duran,
Yellowson,
The Electric Prunes,
Babytalk,
Maleditus Sound,
Max Romeo,
Mark Hollis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Excepter,
Bob Dylan,
Marc Almond,
Banda Bassotti,
Radio Birdman,
Hashim,
The Stooges,
Quando Quango,
Donny Hathaway,
Pole,
Kaleidoscope,
Leonard Cohen,
Bobby Byrd,
Stetsasonic,
K-Klass,
Rufus Thomas,
Dawn Penn,
Spandau Ballet,
The Pretty Things,
Lyres,
The Birthday Party,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Toni Rubio,
The Blackbyrds,
John Coltrane,
The Angels of Light,
Schoolly D,
Skarface,
Sällskapet,
Amazonics,
Sight & Sound,
a-ha,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
Con Funk Shun,
the Human League,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The J.B.'s,
Whodini,
David Axelrod,
Negative Approach,
Zero Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
The Star Department,
Altered Images,
Smog,
Magazine,
Terry Callier,
Faraquet,
Minor Threat,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.