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 Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
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 oboe 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 Morten Harket to the grunge 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves 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?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scott Walker,
Sixth Finger,
Depeche Mode,
Tom Boy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
F. McDonald,
The Red Krayola,
Babytalk,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Gories,
The Cowsills,
Lindisfarne,
The Barracudas,
Urselle,
The New Christs,
Crash Course in Science,
Sound Behaviour,
Rakim,
U.S. Maple,
Gabor Szabo,
Jawbox,
Parry Music,
Qualms,
Deadbeat,
Skarface,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Althea and Donna,
The Mummies,
Main Source,
Masters at Work,
The Black Dice,
Sonic Youth,
Gang Gang Dance,
New Order,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rufus Thomas,
The Modern Lovers,
EPMD,
Soft Machine,
Susan Cadogan,
Yellowson,
Pantaleimon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Womack,
JFA,
David Axelrod,
Pierre Henry,
John Lydon,
Alphaville,
Magazine,
Japan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Davy DMX,
The Beau Brummels,
Pet Shop Boys,
Outsiders,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.