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 Maldives and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Roxette to the funk 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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
La Düsseldorf,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Techniques,
Stockholm Monsters,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Monks,
Public Enemy,
June Days,
Cameo,
Outsiders,
Kaleidoscope,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wire,
Barbara Tucker,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Sonics,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Zeros,
Pantaleimon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cure,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sixth Finger,
Joey Negro,
Spandau Ballet,
Kas Product,
Brothers Johnson,
R.M.O.,
The Human League,
Supertramp,
The Happenings,
Liliput,
Panda Bear,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Judy Mowatt,
John Coltrane,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cowsills,
Deepchord,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Monochrome Set,
Ronan,
F. McDonald,
Blake Baxter,
Oneida,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lou Reed,
Isaac Hayes,
Yaz,
Bobby Sherman,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minor Threat,
KRS-One,
The Stooges,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Reagan Youth,
World's Most,
Harpers Bizarre,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.