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 Chad and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron 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 John Lydon to the disco 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Banda Bassotti,
The Seeds,
Subhumans,
Shoche,
The Slackers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joey Negro,
Deakin,
Panda Bear,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Josef K,
Ohio Players,
Wings,
Moby Grape,
Procol Harum,
Fat Boys,
Gabor Szabo,
DJ Style,
The American Breed,
Susan Cadogan,
Roger Hodgson,
Scientists,
The Sonics,
Sixth Finger,
Bill Near,
The Last Poets,
Harpers Bizarre,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Stiv Bators,
Grey Daturas,
Max Romeo,
X-102,
The Moody Blues,
Barry Ungar,
Brothers Johnson,
La Düsseldorf,
The United States of America,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Electric Prunes,
Zapp,
Khruangbin,
L. Decosne,
The Moleskins,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bush Tetras,
Mo-Dettes,
Masters at Work,
Crooked Eye,
Nirvana,
Eddi Front,
Pharoah Sanders,
Matthew Halsall,
Kaleidoscope,
Lou Christie,
The Electric Prunes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Blake Baxter,
Lindisfarne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.