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 Togo and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
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 guitar 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Faraquet,
The Residents,
Reagan Youth,
Model 500,
Letta Mbulu,
Unwound,
T. Rex,
Black Sheep,
The Saints,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Spandau Ballet,
Mission of Burma,
Lindisfarne,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tom Boy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fall,
The Leaves,
Fad Gadget,
The Real Kids,
Khruangbin,
The Cure,
The Velvet Underground,
Outsiders,
Danielle Patucci,
Fatback Band,
The Selecter,
the Human League,
The Offenders,
Peter and Kerry,
Faust,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Loose Ends,
Pagans,
Mad Mike,
Skarface,
Interpol,
Minnie Riperton,
Rufus Thomas,
Scrapy,
Albert Ayler,
Max Romeo,
Nas,
Scott Walker,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Al Stewart,
Altered Images,
F. McDonald,
Sällskapet,
Franke,
Niagra,
Yellowson,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Music Machine,
Stiv Bators,
Dual Sessions,
Chrome,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.