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 Barbados and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 snare 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 Mars to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Ronan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Skriet,
Soul II Soul,
Derrick May,
Funkadelic,
Pylon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Walker Brothers,
E-Dancer,
Stereo Dub,
Country Teasers,
Pagans,
Roy Ayers,
The Blues Magoos,
The Victims,
Chrome,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Archie Shepp,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Depeche Mode,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grauzone,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
This Heat,
Maleditus Sound,
Excepter,
Jeru the Damaja,
F. McDonald,
Massinfluence,
Swans,
Siglo XX,
Wings,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Susan Cadogan,
The Smiths,
Gerry Rafferty,
Severed Heads,
Tears for Fears,
Crime,
L. Decosne,
Slick Rick,
Outsiders,
The Standells,
The Five Americans,
Interpol,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fluxion,
John Holt,
Khruangbin,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Hardrive,
Man Parrish,
The Barracudas,
the Bar-Kays,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Saccharine Trust,
Unrelated Segments,
Theoretical Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mission of Burma,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.