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 Paraguay and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eric B and Rakim to the crunk 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Oneida,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grauzone,
Electric Prunes,
Basic Channel,
Siglo XX,
The Blackbyrds,
Cal Tjader,
Rufus Thomas,
The Fugs,
Robert Hood,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pylon,
The Velvet Underground,
Pussy Galore,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sight & Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Janne Schatter,
Theoretical Girls,
Nik Kershaw,
A Certain Ratio,
The Sound,
Ossler,
The Electric Prunes,
Marine Girls,
Urselle,
Echospace,
Skriet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Roxy Music,
In Retrospect,
E-Dancer,
Harry Pussy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hardrive,
John Holt,
The New Christs,
Blake Baxter,
Mandrill,
The Kinks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pet Shop Boys,
Crooked Eye,
The Fuzztones,
Simply Red,
Henry Cow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fad Gadget,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Monks,
The Neon Judgement,
Michelle Simonal,
The Invisible,
Amon Düül,
Chrome,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.