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 San Marino and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 David Bowie 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 Sonny Sharrock to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Hashim,
Ken Boothe,
The Golliwogs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gerry Rafferty,
Maurizio,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Inner City,
The Cowsills,
Sun Ra,
Gregory Isaacs,
Archie Shepp,
The Dave Clark Five,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crash Course in Science,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minny Pops,
Drive Like Jehu,
MDC,
One Last Wish,
Mantronix,
Jeff Mills,
Main Source,
kango's stein massive,
Tubeway Army,
The Dirtbombs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Au Pairs,
the Slits,
Bronski Beat,
Monks,
Susan Cadogan,
Half Japanese,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Zero Boys,
Soul II Soul,
Joyce Sims,
Johnny Osbourne,
UT,
Josef K,
Dawn Penn,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Interpol,
Motorama,
Unwound,
Harry Pussy,
Ornette Coleman,
Cal Tjader,
Al Stewart,
Whodini,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Standells,
Qualms,
Loose Ends,
Barry Ungar,
Carl Craig,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Lydon,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.