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 Monaco and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb 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 Excepter to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a 808 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 chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Tears for Fears,
Sonny Sharrock,
Todd Rundgren,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jacques Brel,
The Slackers,
The Mojo Men,
the Human League,
Scott Walker,
The Seeds,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bill Wells,
Anthony Braxton,
Vainqueur,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crooked Eye,
Banda Bassotti,
Cameo,
Rekid,
Franke,
John Lydon,
Darondo,
F. McDonald,
New Order,
The Last Poets,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jeff Lynne,
Mary Jane Girls,
John Holt,
Robert Görl,
Archie Shepp,
The Cure,
Michelle Simonal,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Byrd,
Pharoah Sanders,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bauhaus,
Skaos,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lyres,
Lungfish,
Sällskapet,
The Black Dice,
Babytalk,
Terrestrial Tones,
Amon Düül,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bootsy Collins,
Outsiders,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crime,
Spoonie Gee,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Moon,
Suicide,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Little Man,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.