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 Egypt and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
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 organ 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 The Raincoats to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Josef K,
Gregory Isaacs,
Robert Wyatt,
Saccharine Trust,
World's Most,
The Red Krayola,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cluster,
The Alarm Clocks,
Drexciya,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dead C,
Quantec,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Wake,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Arthur Verocai,
Minny Pops,
Young Marble Giants,
Jerry's Kids,
The Slackers,
These Immortal Souls,
Bill Near,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lakeside,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Standells,
The Gun Club,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Fela Kuti,
The Fire Engines,
The Cure,
Black Moon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Davy DMX,
The Count Five,
Tommy Roe,
Marcia Griffiths,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sandy B,
Erykah Badu,
Das Ding,
Motorama,
Kurtis Blow,
Suicide,
Country Teasers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Trumans Water,
Black Sheep,
The Young Rascals,
Underground Resistance,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Todd Terry,
Khruangbin,
Cheater Slicks,
The Real Kids,
Yaz,
Isaac Hayes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band.
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.