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 Burundi and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Radio Birdman to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Inner City,
Sonny Sharrock,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Coltrane,
Drexciya,
The Dead C,
The Smoke,
Frankie Knuckles,
Television,
Bill Wells,
E-Dancer,
48th St. Collective,
The Moleskins,
Sixth Finger,
Quantec,
the Germs,
H. Thieme,
Public Enemy,
The Motions,
Dawn Penn,
Little Man,
Harmonia,
Rekid,
Oblivians,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lightning Bolt,
Pierre Henry,
Supertramp,
Negative Approach,
Pussy Galore,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Groovy Waters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Maurizio,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Vogues,
Roxette,
Massinfluence,
D'Angelo,
Scientists,
Joy Division,
Pylon,
the Bar-Kays,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Brick,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Mummies,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Blancmange,
Section 25,
New Order,
Lucky Dragons,
Yellowson,
Leonard Cohen,
Amon Düül,
Porter Ricks,
Gabor Szabo,
Nas,
Suicide,
Piero Umiliani,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.