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 Saudi Arabia and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator 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 Yellowson to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Marmalade,
Dave Gahan,
Ken Boothe,
Trumans Water,
Rapeman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Albert Ayler,
John Foxx,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Dead C,
Erasure,
Brothers Johnson,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Residents,
Public Enemy,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobby Byrd,
Banda Bassotti,
Aswad,
Cheater Slicks,
Bill Wells,
Kaleidoscope,
Minnie Riperton,
Talk Talk,
10cc,
Colin Newman,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wally Richardson,
Crooked Eye,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Duran Duran,
The Music Machine,
Scion,
The Count Five,
Youth Brigade,
Rotary Connection,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Moss Icon,
Avey Tare,
Joe Smooth,
Pere Ubu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang of Four,
The Human League,
Oblivians,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Human League,
Eyeless In Gaza,
KRS-One,
Severed Heads,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Durutti Column,
Skarface,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kas Product,
Lower 48,
ABBA,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.