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 El Salvador and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lyres to the electroclash 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
Outsiders,
Graham Central Station,
The Evens,
Negative Approach,
Ossler,
Zapp,
Chris & Cosey,
Danielle Patucci,
Hardrive,
Yaz,
David McCallum,
Aswad,
Eve St. Jones,
The Blackbyrds,
Whodini,
Los Fastidios,
Excepter,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ice-T,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
ABC,
The Durutti Column,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rites of Spring,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Electric Prunes,
Wire,
The Associates,
Bill Near,
Soul Sonic Force,
Franke,
Sugar Minott,
The Names,
The Count Five,
Sparks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Barracudas,
Minnie Riperton,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Erykah Badu,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Victims,
Sam Rivers,
Yazoo,
Swans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Human League,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soft Cell,
ABBA,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mission of Burma,
Goldenarms,
Delon & Dalcan,
Wings,
Desert Stars,
Pet Shop Boys,
Warsaw,
The Cure,
Neil Young,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.