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 Ireland and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 Severed Heads to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barbara Tucker,
Laurel Aitken,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Moon,
the Normal,
Joe Smooth,
Con Funk Shun,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fuzztones,
Marshall Jefferson,
Unrelated Segments,
Howard Jones,
Second Layer,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gong,
Traffic Nightmare,
Camberwell Now,
Black Bananas,
Ronnie Foster,
The Victims,
Peter & Gordon,
The Gap Band,
Guru Guru,
Roger Hodgson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Amon Düül II,
Bill Near,
Pharoah Sanders,
Suburban Knight,
The Seeds,
Johnny Clarke,
Pole,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Names,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jacques Brel,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobby Byrd,
Suicide,
X-102,
10cc,
Clear Light,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Subhumans,
Rotary Connection,
Porter Ricks,
Kaleidoscope,
The Sound,
Oneida,
Basic Channel,
Camouflage,
Josef K,
Q65,
Rhythm & Sound,
Das Ding,
Alice Coltrane,
Grauzone,
Heaven 17,
Dave Gahan,
Arcadia,
The Red Krayola,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.