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 Tuvalu and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ 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 Silicon Teens to the crunk 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Gang Green,
Robert Görl,
Roxette,
David McCallum,
David Axelrod,
Harpers Bizarre,
Von Mondo,
The Motions,
The Monks,
The Knickerbockers,
Jeff Lynne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pylon,
The Evens,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Wally Richardson,
Derrick Morgan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Human League,
Ossler,
48th St. Collective,
The Real Kids,
Los Fastidios,
Hardrive,
Visage,
Matthew Bourne,
Kerri Chandler,
Slave,
Blossom Toes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Agent Orange,
The Cramps,
Talk Talk,
Crash Course in Science,
Drexciya,
Theoretical Girls,
Sällskapet,
The Golliwogs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Albert Ayler,
Vladislav Delay,
Janne Schatter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minnie Riperton,
The Martian,
Eli Mardock,
Pierre Henry,
Metal Thangz,
Robert Hood,
Rotary Connection,
June Days,
Tim Buckley,
Rapeman,
Rosa Yemen,
Faraquet,
The Music Machine,
The Fuzztones,
Dave Gahan,
The Associates,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.