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 San Marino and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba 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 Camouflage to the grime 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
John Cale,
Donny Hathaway,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scott Walker,
Brothers Johnson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Kinks,
Television,
Nick Fraelich,
Aloha Tigers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Graham Central Station,
Quantec,
Franke,
Cymande,
Barry Ungar,
June of 44,
Alphaville,
Black Flag,
Fluxion,
Yellowson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Flipper,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Associates,
L. Decosne,
Qualms,
DJ Sneak,
Excepter,
In Retrospect,
Jawbox,
OOIOO,
Howard Jones,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Victims,
Susan Cadogan,
Dead Boys,
Visage,
Robert Görl,
Sister Nancy,
Eddi Front,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Joe Smooth,
Joey Negro,
The Trojans,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Black Dice,
Bluetip,
Oblivians,
Sun City Girls,
Average White Band,
The Pretty Things,
Kaleidoscope,
The Monochrome Set,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Smoke,
Erasure,
Q and Not U,
Joyce Sims,
Popol Vuh,
The Buckinghams,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.