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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ken Boothe to the disco 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
The Misunderstood,
Desert Stars,
Deepchord,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
LL Cool J,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pussy Galore,
Yellowson,
Duran Duran,
John Holt,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
K-Klass,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
In Retrospect,
Iggy Pop,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mandrill,
The Divine Comedy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Talk Talk,
Flamin' Groovies,
The J.B.'s,
The Moody Blues,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Swans,
Procol Harum,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tropical Tobacco,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Tubeway Army,
Tears for Fears,
ABC,
Drive Like Jehu,
Skriet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Derrick Morgan,
Gichy Dan,
Slick Rick,
The Angels of Light,
Amazonics,
Oneida,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Skarface,
Jeff Mills,
Q65,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Durutti Column,
Tomorrow,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Slave,
These Immortal Souls,
Eric Copeland,
Drexciya,
Bush Tetras,
Q and Not U,
Masters at Work,
Soul Sonic Force,
Adolescents,
Janne Schatter,
Minor Threat,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.