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 Costa Rica and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 The Mummies to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Funkadelic,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dirtbombs,
Piero Umiliani,
FM Einheit,
Basic Channel,
Avey Tare,
Boz Scaggs,
Lungfish,
D'Angelo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
These Immortal Souls,
Amon Düül II,
Zero Boys,
Pere Ubu,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Darondo,
Harmonia,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fugazi,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Sonics,
Rapeman,
Gong,
The Martian,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Litter,
Tubeway Army,
Mission of Burma,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Robert Hood,
The Cure,
Carl Craig,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gang of Four,
Rites of Spring,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mandrill,
PIL,
Inner City,
New Order,
James White and The Blacks,
Talk Talk,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Amazonics,
Silicon Teens,
The Smiths,
Thompson Twins,
Steve Hackett,
Ultra Naté,
Cheater Slicks,
The Divine Comedy,
The Pretty Things,
Lalann,
Shuggie Otis,
Radiopuhelimet,
Excepter,
The Selecter,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.