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 Armenia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pantaleimon to the crunk 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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Swans,
Wings,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Motorama,
Pantytec,
Hot Snakes,
ABBA,
Sugar Minott,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fire Engines,
Maurizio,
Rhythm & Sound,
Circle Jerks,
Neu!,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Altered Images,
Little Man,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Pop Group,
Reuben Wilson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Barrington Levy,
Clear Light,
Nik Kershaw,
the Soft Cell,
Yusef Lateef,
Gabor Szabo,
The Young Rascals,
The Dead C,
Black Flag,
Don Cherry,
The Grass Roots,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Howard Jones,
the Swans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Popol Vuh,
Mr. Review,
Von Mondo,
Boredoms,
Avey Tare,
Saccharine Trust,
Donald Byrd,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Blancmange,
The Divine Comedy,
Tommy Roe,
David McCallum,
Deadbeat,
The Associates,
Josef K,
Main Source,
The Slackers,
Leonard Cohen,
Intrusion,
Prince Buster,
Arthur Verocai,
The Seeds,
Rotary Connection,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sparks,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert 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.