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 Bhutan and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 harpsichord 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 The Wake to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
The Gap Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Offenders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Pop Group,
Sarah Menescal,
John Holt,
Tom Boy,
Zapp,
New Age Steppers,
Lakeside,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Radio Birdman,
Pere Ubu,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Angels of Light,
Monks,
Isaac Hayes,
Clear Light,
Gong,
The Grass Roots,
Aural Exciters,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pylon,
Kevin Saunderson,
Arthur Verocai,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hot Snakes,
The Happenings,
Kaleidoscope,
Mission of Burma,
The Fire Engines,
The Saints,
Heaven 17,
Archie Shepp,
Barbara Tucker,
Sound Behaviour,
Lebanon Hanover,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Main Source,
Wings,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rufus Thomas,
Crash Course in Science,
The Buckinghams,
Outsiders,
the Germs,
Bobby Sherman,
Amazonics,
The Associates,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Albert Ayler,
Wally Richardson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Vogues,
Easy Going,
The Names,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lucky Dragons,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.