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 Kuwait and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Lou Reed 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 The Modern Lovers to the crunk 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Essential Logic,
Jacques Brel,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minny Pops,
China Crisis,
Pussy Galore,
Fear,
Tomorrow,
Barrington Levy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sällskapet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Colin Newman,
Infiniti,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Byron Stingily,
Quadrant,
Loose Ends,
The Sonics,
The Durutti Column,
James White and The Blacks,
Don Cherry,
Blancmange,
Porter Ricks,
MC5,
One Last Wish,
Rufus Thomas,
Bob Dylan,
The Angels of Light,
Unwound,
Au Pairs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Urselle,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Zapp,
Can,
Sun City Girls,
Susan Cadogan,
The Music Machine,
The Move,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minnie Riperton,
The Slits,
Suburban Knight,
Brand Nubian,
The Happenings,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sister Nancy,
Isaac Hayes,
Roxette,
Make Up,
Flash Fearless,
Moss Icon,
Y Pants,
This Heat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joe Smooth,
DJ Sneak,
The Velvet Underground,
MDC,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.