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 South Africa and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Joensuu 1685 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Gastr Del Sol,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Adolescents,
June Days,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Bar-Kays,
H. Thieme,
Juan Atkins,
Pierre Henry,
Gong,
Sonny Sharrock,
Skaos,
Crime,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grey Daturas,
Sun City Girls,
Harmonia,
The Buckinghams,
The Raincoats,
The Pretty Things,
Bang On A Can,
Man Parrish,
Stetsasonic,
Chrome,
Mark Hollis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fluxion,
The Monks,
Black Bananas,
Judy Mowatt,
Iggy Pop,
Funkadelic,
Leonard Cohen,
Alice Coltrane,
The Moody Blues,
Essential Logic,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fuzztones,
Saccharine Trust,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Selecter,
Main Source,
The Star Department,
Animal Collective,
Quadrant,
the Association,
Lightning Bolt,
The Gladiators,
Model 500,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
X-Ray Spex,
Ten City,
D'Angelo,
The Last Poets,
Carl Craig,
Al Stewart,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Second Layer,
Matthew Bourne,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.