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 Belarus and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Robert Palmer 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 Skriet to the dance 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Qualms,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fat Boys,
The Moody Blues,
The Gories,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Remains,
Depeche Mode,
Lalann,
Ronnie Foster,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kool Moe Dee,
Boz Scaggs,
The New Christs,
Moby Grape,
The Real Kids,
Ponytail,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Harpers Bizarre,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barbara Tucker,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kenny Larkin,
The Residents,
a-ha,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
New York Dolls,
The Sound,
Moss Icon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Buckinghams,
The Index,
Andrew Hill,
Loose Ends,
X-Ray Spex,
Can,
Brand Nubian,
Angry Samoans,
JFA,
Deakin,
Camouflage,
Niagra,
Metal Thangz,
Surgeon,
Bill Wells,
Mary Jane Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wasted Youth,
Das Ding,
The Fugs,
Model 500,
Soft Cell,
Deadbeat,
Ohio Players,
Cybotron,
Todd Rundgren,
B.T. Express,
Trumans Water,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.