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 Dominican Republic and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pantytec to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Neil Young,
Outsiders,
Pulsallama,
the Human League,
Delon & Dalcan,
Althea and Donna,
Mandrill,
Section 25,
Michelle Simonal,
Cameo,
The Names,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Anthony Braxton,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nirvana,
Aural Exciters,
Terry Callier,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Peter & Gordon,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
Agent Orange,
Kurtis Blow,
Sun City Girls,
Alphaville,
Visage,
Quantec,
Yusef Lateef,
John Cale,
Cybotron,
Erykah Badu,
Minnie Riperton,
Mo-Dettes,
Marine Girls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Khruangbin,
Pole,
Organ,
Guru Guru,
Jerry's Kids,
The Gladiators,
Lakeside,
Stereo Dub,
Sex Pistols,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ultravox,
Kevin Saunderson,
Silicon Teens,
Big Daddy Kane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Fania All-Stars,
Groovy Waters,
PIL,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sam Rivers,
Bronski Beat,
The Shadows of Knight,
New Age Steppers,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.