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 Sudan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 The Offenders to the punk 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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ponytail,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rufus Thomas,
Soulsonic Force,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Patti Smith,
Scott Walker,
John Coltrane,
Moebius,
The Move,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang Green,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Royal Trux,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tommy Roe,
Guru Guru,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ice-T,
Robert Wyatt,
Connie Case,
Letta Mbulu,
New Order,
Talk Talk,
Tres Demented,
Lalann,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Standells,
The Happenings,
Barbara Tucker,
Kurtis Blow,
Hashim,
Newcleus,
Cal Tjader,
Gastr Del Sol,
Robert Görl,
Cymande,
The Zeros,
Sparks,
Wolf Eyes,
Harpers Bizarre,
DJ Sneak,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Shuggie Otis,
The Sound,
Jesper Dahlback,
Electric Prunes,
Kerrie Biddell,
T. Rex,
PIL,
Stereo Dub,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ludus,
Nick Fraelich,
CMW,
The Skatalites,
Urselle,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.