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 Seychelles and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
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 clarinet 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the punk 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
The Toasters,
Pulsallama,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Sherman,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The New Christs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Alphaville,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mad Mike,
Unwound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kayak,
Soft Machine,
Hasil Adkins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crash Course in Science,
Gabor Szabo,
Maleditus Sound,
The Zeros,
Lightning Bolt,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Black Dice,
the Soft Cell,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Drexciya,
The American Breed,
The Monks,
Smog,
LL Cool J,
Television,
Pussy Galore,
Gichy Dan,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Suicide,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Bananas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Massinfluence,
Easy Going,
Mo-Dettes,
The Moody Blues,
Erasure,
John Cale,
Sixth Finger,
The Wake,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Cowsills,
Pet Shop Boys,
Brand Nubian,
Ten City,
Half Japanese,
Robert Hood,
Grey Daturas,
Basic Channel,
The Pretty Things,
R.M.O.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.