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 Czech Republic and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 The Pretty Things to the punk 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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Malaria!,
Ossler,
The Litter,
David Axelrod,
Eddi Front,
The Young Rascals,
Soft Machine,
Sound Behaviour,
Rhythm & Sound,
Connie Case,
Minny Pops,
H. Thieme,
The Stooges,
Camouflage,
Moby Grape,
Ornette Coleman,
Ken Boothe,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Durutti Column,
Matthew Bourne,
Charles Mingus,
Fat Boys,
Sällskapet,
The Dead C,
Patti Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
Aaron Thompson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dave Gahan,
Scott Walker,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eve St. Jones,
New Order,
Idris Muhammad,
Sugar Minott,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Maleditus Sound,
Ituana,
Eurythmics,
Stetsasonic,
Prince Buster,
Bad Manners,
The Happenings,
The Red Krayola,
Faraquet,
Junior Murvin,
Clear Light,
Drexciya,
Todd Rundgren,
The Monks,
Black Pus,
Freddie Wadling,
Skaos,
Cybotron,
The Velvet Underground,
Pulsallama,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Can,
The Human League,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.