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 Bhutan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 X-Ray Spex to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Cal Tjader,
Malaria!,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sandy B,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moby Grape,
Funky Four + One,
Eve St. Jones,
The Shadows of Knight,
Accadde A,
Y Pants,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pole,
Rapeman,
Wolf Eyes,
Inner City,
Nik Kershaw,
Scan 7,
Essential Logic,
Scientists,
Boogie Down Productions,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bootsy Collins,
Mo-Dettes,
Todd Terry,
Reuben Wilson,
The Monochrome Set,
Pussy Galore,
Girls At Our Best!,
Susan Cadogan,
The Evens,
Scrapy,
Index,
Quantec,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David Bowie,
The Last Poets,
The Count Five,
Magma,
The Moleskins,
Morten Harket,
Youth Brigade,
Henry Cow,
Cecil Taylor,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sonny Sharrock,
Flash Fearless,
Subhumans,
Spandau Ballet,
The Seeds,
Khruangbin,
Terrestrial Tones,
Second Layer,
Barbara Tucker,
Warsaw,
Lyres,
Faust,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White 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.