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 Denmark and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar 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 Theoretical Girls to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Jacob Miller,
Hardrive,
These Immortal Souls,
Fela Kuti,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jandek,
Banda Bassotti,
Eric B and Rakim,
Minny Pops,
R.M.O.,
The Seeds,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Victims,
Lightning Bolt,
Sandy B,
Jeff Mills,
The Fugs,
The Trojans,
Curtis Mayfield,
A Certain Ratio,
The Index,
Franke,
Robert Görl,
The Velvet Underground,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gladiators,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Stooges,
Intrusion,
The Monks,
Underground Resistance,
Magazine,
The Gories,
Isaac Hayes,
Piero Umiliani,
Amazonics,
Eden Ahbez,
UT,
Wire,
Kerri Chandler,
Eric Copeland,
The Tremeloes,
The Moleskins,
Barry Ungar,
Monks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Electric Prunes,
Tommy Roe,
Wolf Eyes,
Scientists,
Gang Starr,
Harry Pussy,
the Bar-Kays,
Robert Wyatt,
Anthony Braxton,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Youth Brigade,
Traffic Nightmare,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam, Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam, Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam, Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam.
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.