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 Albania and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Robert Palmer 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 Ituana to the punk 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader 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?
Lalann,
Echospace,
B.T. Express,
Basic Channel,
Rufus Thomas,
Electric Prunes,
Freddie Wadling,
The New Christs,
Cameo,
Bootsy Collins,
Adolescents,
Wally Richardson,
Swans,
The Index,
the Association,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fuzztones,
Marc Almond,
Girls At Our Best!,
James White and The Blacks,
The Modern Lovers,
Simply Red,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Raincoats,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pierre Henry,
Joe Finger,
Johnny Clarke,
Sarah Menescal,
Eden Ahbez,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Music Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Trumans Water,
Subhumans,
Shoche,
The Gladiators,
Avey Tare,
Index,
48th St. Collective,
Faraquet,
Robert Hood,
Japan,
Scott Walker,
Goldenarms,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eddi Front,
Organ,
Public Enemy,
The American Breed,
Clear Light,
Fad Gadget,
The Monochrome Set,
Black Moon,
10cc,
Brick,
Kas Product,
Country Teasers,
Rekid,
The Happenings,
Slave,
Qualms,
The Kinks,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.