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 Czech Republic and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Sun City Girls to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DeepChord presents Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Slackers,
Monks,
Henry Cow,
Ken Boothe,
Roy Ayers,
A Certain Ratio,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Toni Rubio,
Slave,
Hot Snakes,
The Fall,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Erykah Badu,
L. Decosne,
Skriet,
Talk Talk,
Organ,
Jacob Miller,
Sonic Youth,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lou Christie,
The Seeds,
Rites of Spring,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bronski Beat,
Chris & Cosey,
Magazine,
Popol Vuh,
cv313,
The Cowsills,
Ice-T,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Amazonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobby Byrd,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tomorrow,
Arab on Radar,
Idris Muhammad,
Ponytail,
Brick,
Peter & Gordon,
Negative Approach,
Jeff Lynne,
Kas Product,
U.S. Maple,
Piero Umiliani,
Sexual Harrassment,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Echospace,
Tears for Fears,
The Music Machine,
Hashim,
Con Funk Shun,
Section 25,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gang Green,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang Starr,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.