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 Ghana and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar 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 New York Dolls to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Standells,
Warren Ellis,
Ronnie Foster,
K-Klass,
Black Bananas,
Skriet,
Popol Vuh,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Man Parrish,
Jacob Miller,
JFA,
Clear Light,
Faust,
Silicon Teens,
Masters at Work,
Eli Mardock,
Newcleus,
Vladislav Delay,
Joe Smooth,
Alice Coltrane,
Tres Demented,
Lindisfarne,
Easy Going,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gories,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hashim,
Trumans Water,
Porter Ricks,
Theoretical Girls,
The Slits,
X-101,
The Offenders,
The Sound,
Television Personalities,
Matthew Bourne,
Warsaw,
Goldenarms,
Mars,
Nation of Ulysses,
L. Decosne,
June of 44,
Bobby Byrd,
Drexciya,
Black Sheep,
Pantytec,
Sister Nancy,
Radiohead,
Con Funk Shun,
Depeche Mode,
Swans,
The Associates,
Delon & Dalcan,
Steve Hackett,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Television,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Camberwell Now,
Robert Hood,
Alison Limerick,
Lower 48,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bang On A Can,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.