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 Kiribati and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tom Boy to the funk 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Maurizio,
Young Marble Giants,
Kerri Chandler,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gun Club,
Albert Ayler,
Ice-T,
The Move,
The Gladiators,
Pet Shop Boys,
Quadrant,
Monks,
cv313,
Japan,
Skriet,
The American Breed,
Sällskapet,
Gang Gang Dance,
OOIOO,
Newcleus,
Bang On A Can,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marvin Gaye,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Amazonics,
The Leaves,
The Slits,
Lyres,
Bad Manners,
Yazoo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rufus Thomas,
Deadbeat,
the Slits,
The Residents,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Subhumans,
Guru Guru,
Crash Course in Science,
Glenn Branca,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mr. Review,
Colin Newman,
The Angels of Light,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Sonics,
The Fugs,
Ponytail,
Massinfluence,
The Walker Brothers,
Hoover,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Panda Bear,
Dave Gahan,
DJ Sneak,
The Cowsills,
Second Layer,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Tremeloes,
Franke,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.