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 Russia and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 808 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 Associates to the punk 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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Sandy B,
Aswad,
Bush Tetras,
Newcleus,
Magazine,
Los Fastidios,
The Fall,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sonic Youth,
Lyres,
The Leaves,
Section 25,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Doors,
Lindisfarne,
Judy Mowatt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crooked Eye,
The Blackbyrds,
the Germs,
Jeru the Damaja,
Oblivians,
PIL,
Liliput,
Kenny Larkin,
Youth Brigade,
Magma,
Bauhaus,
Ituana,
Tim Buckley,
Faust,
Thompson Twins,
Adolescents,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Modern Lovers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Juan Atkins,
Theoretical Girls,
The Skatalites,
Tres Demented,
the Soft Cell,
H. Thieme,
Television,
Can,
The Residents,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Chris & Cosey,
The Victims,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gichy Dan,
Thee Headcoats,
Howard Jones,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cowsills,
Sister Nancy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Surgeon,
a-ha,
Faraquet,
John Lydon,
The Index,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.