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 Serbia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Madrid.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Mantronix,
Bill Wells,
Pere Ubu,
Radio Birdman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ultra Naté,
Derrick May,
Lalann,
Icehouse,
Bad Manners,
R.M.O.,
The Pop Group,
Liliput,
Public Enemy,
Godley & Creme,
Erasure,
Ice-T,
Gang of Four,
Idris Muhammad,
Underground Resistance,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Robert Wyatt,
Barrington Levy,
Second Layer,
Skriet,
Nik Kershaw,
Lindisfarne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
One Last Wish,
Mars,
June Days,
The Trojans,
James White and The Blacks,
The Sound,
Y Pants,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Make Up,
Guru Guru,
Theoretical Girls,
The Walker Brothers,
Jandek,
Girls At Our Best!,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Trumans Water,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ossler,
The Beau Brummels,
Jacques Brel,
Banda Bassotti,
Big Daddy Kane,
Neil Young,
Fear,
Depeche Mode,
The Smiths,
DNA,
Rosa Yemen,
Groovy Waters,
The New Christs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eric Copeland,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sex Pistols,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.