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 Kyrgyzstan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet 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 Deadbeat to the funk 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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
Minny Pops,
Subhumans,
Livin' Joy,
John Cale,
Public Enemy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Germs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Gap Band,
The Pretty Things,
The Star Department,
Colin Newman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yusef Lateef,
Erasure,
This Heat,
Rakim,
Sight & Sound,
T. Rex,
The Names,
Stockholm Monsters,
Connie Case,
Aural Exciters,
Pantytec,
Deakin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Flipper,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Essential Logic,
Adolescents,
The Remains,
Icehouse,
The Shadows of Knight,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Camouflage,
Kerri Chandler,
8 Eyed Spy,
Outsiders,
CMW,
Wolf Eyes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Clear Light,
Roxette,
New Order,
The Grass Roots,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Moleskins,
Barrington Levy,
48th St. Collective,
Talk Talk,
the Slits,
Eden Ahbez,
Echospace,
Eddi Front,
Bill Wells,
Robert Wyatt,
Eric Dolphy,
JFA,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.