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 Sweden and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator 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 Camouflage to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
the Germs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Peter & Gordon,
Crash Course in Science,
the Association,
Sister Nancy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Max Romeo,
Nils Olav,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
48th St. Collective,
Sugar Minott,
The Neon Judgement,
Quando Quango,
Erasure,
Roxette,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter and Kerry,
Sällskapet,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grauzone,
Shoche,
Gregory Isaacs,
X-Ray Spex,
The Vogues,
The Gun Club,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rhythm & Sound,
Alison Limerick,
Scrapy,
Ultravox,
Harpers Bizarre,
Depeche Mode,
Nik Kershaw,
the Swans,
Freddie Wadling,
Agent Orange,
Lindisfarne,
Yusef Lateef,
The Doobie Brothers,
Slick Rick,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Smiths,
Gerry Rafferty,
John Holt,
Lakeside,
Arthur Verocai,
Bob Dylan,
The Divine Comedy,
Nick Fraelich,
Amon Düül,
The Cure,
Deakin,
The Birthday Party,
Nation of Ulysses,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New York Dolls,
Audionom,
Robert Görl,
Radio Birdman,
Sun City Girls,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.