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 Vanuatu and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 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 Avey Tare to the punk 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 The Victims. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rod Modell,
R.M.O.,
the Slits,
The Gladiators,
Eric B and Rakim,
Quadrant,
Arcadia,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Matthew Halsall,
Section 25,
the Association,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roger Hodgson,
K-Klass,
kango's stein massive,
D'Angelo,
Lebanon Hanover,
David Axelrod,
Zero Boys,
Don Cherry,
Wally Richardson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Groovy Waters,
Eve St. Jones,
Todd Rundgren,
Eli Mardock,
Marshall Jefferson,
Idris Muhammad,
Spoonie Gee,
Alison Limerick,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sun Ra,
The Offenders,
Pantytec,
Organ,
Bad Manners,
Ohio Players,
Soft Machine,
L. Decosne,
The United States of America,
Sugar Minott,
Urselle,
Liliput,
The Flesh Eaters,
New Age Steppers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Malaria!,
The Fortunes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Soul Sonic Force,
Agent Orange,
Warren Ellis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Music Machine,
The Slits,
Lucky Dragons,
Index,
Robert Görl,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.