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 Marshall Islands and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ronan 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Human League,
The Angels of Light,
Robert Wyatt,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joe Smooth,
The Invisible,
Bill Wells,
Ossler,
Subhumans,
Soulsonic Force,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Spandau Ballet,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Christie,
Ultra Naté,
Donny Hathaway,
Liliput,
Public Enemy,
L. Decosne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marine Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
Cal Tjader,
the Slits,
The Human League,
Jimmy McGriff,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Faust,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nils Olav,
Bauhaus,
Byron Stingily,
Yellowson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Last Poets,
Al Stewart,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tommy Roe,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tears for Fears,
Arcadia,
Cybotron,
Jerry's Kids,
Sonic Youth,
June of 44,
Fatback Band,
Deadbeat,
Eve St. Jones,
Lee Hazlewood,
Idris Muhammad,
Main Source,
Harpers Bizarre,
Alton Ellis,
Bill Near,
Wolf Eyes,
Oneida,
Ralphi Rosario,
F. McDonald,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Wake,
Jawbox,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.