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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Aloha Tigers to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Young Marble Giants,
Heaven 17,
Ludus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Motorama,
Maleditus Sound,
The Slackers,
The Blackbyrds,
Radiohead,
Ice-T,
Los Fastidios,
Icehouse,
Brass Construction,
Livin' Joy,
the Slits,
Half Japanese,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brand Nubian,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Section 25,
The Cramps,
Amazonics,
DJ Style,
Youth Brigade,
The Sound,
Pierre Henry,
The Cowsills,
Arcadia,
DNA,
The Kinks,
the Bar-Kays,
Johnny Clarke,
The Toasters,
Roger Hodgson,
Minny Pops,
The Wake,
Terry Callier,
Prince Buster,
Whodini,
Rites of Spring,
Silicon Teens,
Masters at Work,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Toni Rubio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Amon Düül II,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mark Hollis,
Wire,
Pantytec,
Magazine,
Electric Prunes,
Monolake,
The Gladiators,
Can,
Kurtis Blow,
Lucky Dragons,
Ken Boothe,
Cybotron,
Robert Wyatt,
The Smoke,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.