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 Armenia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Swell Maps to the funk 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
the Fania All-Stars,
Easy Going,
The Remains,
Tom Boy,
Rites of Spring,
Howard Jones,
Todd Terry,
The Busters,
The Five Americans,
Technova,
The Sound,
Terry Callier,
Motorama,
Arab on Radar,
Aswad,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mars,
The Doobie Brothers,
Slave,
The Zeros,
Marvin Gaye,
Minutemen,
Connie Case,
MDC,
Fluxion,
Severed Heads,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Excepter,
Donald Byrd,
Stiv Bators,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gang Gang Dance,
Donny Hathaway,
Adolescents,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Beasts of Bourbon,
June Days,
The Residents,
Model 500,
Wally Richardson,
Quantec,
Radiohead,
Gang of Four,
Jerry's Kids,
Intrusion,
Pagans,
Crash Course in Science,
The Slits,
FM Einheit,
The United States of America,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fall,
June of 44,
Judy Mowatt,
Half Japanese,
Q and Not U,
Aural Exciters,
Yaz,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.