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 Bahrain and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Milan.
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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Scion,
The Evens,
Gastr Del Sol,
Shoche,
The Skatalites,
CMW,
Gang of Four,
cv313,
The Fortunes,
Connie Case,
The Residents,
Gang Green,
Eden Ahbez,
Mantronix,
In Retrospect,
Electric Prunes,
Kaleidoscope,
Scrapy,
Matthew Halsall,
Sun City Girls,
Fatback Band,
Angry Samoans,
Idris Muhammad,
Lakeside,
Pylon,
Harmonia,
Zapp,
Brick,
Spoonie Gee,
David McCallum,
Glenn Branca,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Christie,
Make Up,
Soul II Soul,
Crime,
The Smiths,
The Cure,
Dark Day,
Mark Hollis,
Excepter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Babytalk,
New York Dolls,
Wolf Eyes,
Chrome,
Symarip,
The Durutti Column,
Blossom Toes,
Moby Grape,
Bauhaus,
Television Personalities,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Patti Smith,
John Foxx,
The Dirtbombs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joyce Sims,
Intrusion,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.