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 Botswana and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Rosa Yemen to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Jeff Lynne,
Arcadia,
Saccharine Trust,
Minny Pops,
The Cramps,
Joensuu 1685,
Hoover,
E-Dancer,
The Vogues,
Fela Kuti,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tomorrow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Index,
The Angels of Light,
Stiv Bators,
Chrome,
Ohio Players,
Underground Resistance,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bob Dylan,
One Last Wish,
Ornette Coleman,
Nik Kershaw,
The Stooges,
Pantaleimon,
the Germs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David Axelrod,
Faraquet,
Nico,
Eden Ahbez,
Mad Mike,
Parry Music,
Outsiders,
Wire,
Intrusion,
Fad Gadget,
June Days,
the Soft Cell,
Lakeside,
Dorothy Ashby,
Liliput,
The Doors,
Bronski Beat,
James White and The Blacks,
Mission of Burma,
Pere Ubu,
Patti Smith,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Camouflage,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Seeds,
Motorama,
the Human League,
Pierre Henry,
Warren Ellis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.