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 Turkey and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Peter & Gordon to the crunk 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Robert Görl,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Black Flag,
Matthew Bourne,
Technova,
The Fire Engines,
Jacques Brel,
John Lydon,
World's Most,
Josef K,
Desert Stars,
Saccharine Trust,
EPMD,
Ultra Naté,
Sixth Finger,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Radio Birdman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tubeway Army,
James White and The Blacks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lucky Dragons,
The Real Kids,
Pussy Galore,
The Buckinghams,
Aswad,
David Bowie,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Drive Like Jehu,
Whodini,
Eric Dolphy,
Bush Tetras,
Laurel Aitken,
the Soft Cell,
Amon Düül II,
Pulsallama,
Sun Ra,
Ken Boothe,
Malaria!,
Q and Not U,
Fad Gadget,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Maleditus Sound,
Dawn Penn,
Japan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Depeche Mode,
Stetsasonic,
Yazoo,
Faraquet,
Rakim,
The New Christs,
Darondo,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.