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 Suriname and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Swans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Q65,
Mark Hollis,
Mars,
Amazonics,
Moebius,
Drexciya,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eden Ahbez,
Dead Boys,
Technova,
The Stooges,
D'Angelo,
The Vogues,
Inner City,
Whodini,
Lucky Dragons,
Lightning Bolt,
Rapeman,
The Fire Engines,
Sugar Minott,
Jawbox,
David Bowie,
The Durutti Column,
Pere Ubu,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Hood,
China Crisis,
The Electric Prunes,
Motorama,
Blossom Toes,
Livin' Joy,
Skriet,
Howard Jones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Intrusion,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Aural Exciters,
MC5,
X-102,
Magazine,
T. Rex,
Todd Rundgren,
Judy Mowatt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pantytec,
Ice-T,
Fugazi,
Scan 7,
Yusef Lateef,
Hashim,
Lyres,
Sound Behaviour,
Sarah Menescal,
This Heat,
Barry Ungar,
Trumans Water,
Derrick May,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.