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 Netherlands and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Judy Mowatt to the jazz 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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
The Slits,
Traffic Nightmare,
Vladislav Delay,
Parry Music,
Neu!,
Ice-T,
The Cure,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Agitation Free,
Maurizio,
Los Fastidios,
Wolf Eyes,
Q and Not U,
Isaac Hayes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gories,
Barrington Levy,
Todd Rundgren,
The Slackers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Drexciya,
Nik Kershaw,
Steve Hackett,
Absolute Body Control,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Gun Club,
Skriet,
Circle Jerks,
Minnie Riperton,
Pussy Galore,
Jimmy McGriff,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Neil Young,
Rufus Thomas,
X-102,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Deakin,
Marc Almond,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Henry Cow,
Scion,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Andrew Hill,
Morten Harket,
Fugazi,
Livin' Joy,
Avey Tare,
The Associates,
Ronnie Foster,
Bad Manners,
Pylon,
Guru Guru,
Talk Talk,
Oneida,
Agent Orange,
Motorama,
Clear Light,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.