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 China and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Black Pus to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
The Invisible,
The Knickerbockers,
Icehouse,
The American Breed,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Cramps,
The Skatalites,
AZ,
Arthur Verocai,
Maurizio,
The Tremeloes,
Technova,
Flash Fearless,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fire Engines,
Jerry's Kids,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sam Rivers,
UT,
Pierre Henry,
Tim Buckley,
Ken Boothe,
Jeff Mills,
Hashim,
Shoche,
Mr. Review,
The Move,
Harmonia,
Swans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Los Fastidios,
Spoonie Gee,
Scrapy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Grass Roots,
Kevin Saunderson,
Essential Logic,
Boz Scaggs,
cv313,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobby Sherman,
Depeche Mode,
Amazonics,
Wally Richardson,
Parry Music,
Masters at Work,
The Leaves,
The Angels of Light,
Hoover,
Archie Shepp,
Anthony Braxton,
the Association,
The Flesh Eaters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bauhaus,
The Neon Judgement,
June of 44,
Fat Boys,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.