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 Albania and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 John Lydon to the crunk 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Faraquet,
Gang of Four,
Todd Rundgren,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Supertramp,
Essential Logic,
Technova,
The Seeds,
Crime,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tomorrow,
Theoretical Girls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Coltrane,
The Real Kids,
Pagans,
The Pop Group,
These Immortal Souls,
The Buckinghams,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eric Dolphy,
D'Angelo,
Agent Orange,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Throbbing Gristle,
Little Man,
Minor Threat,
Kenny Larkin,
The Last Poets,
Moebius,
Barrington Levy,
The Walker Brothers,
Qualms,
Lyres,
Michelle Simonal,
Popol Vuh,
Pole,
Delta 5,
K-Klass,
Crispian St. Peters,
Blake Baxter,
Leonard Cohen,
Charles Mingus,
Alison Limerick,
Barbara Tucker,
Depeche Mode,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kurtis Blow,
Organ,
Oneida,
Eden Ahbez,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
David McCallum,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Anakelly,
Crash Course in Science,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.