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 Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord 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 Juan Atkins to the rap 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
The Gap Band,
The Five Americans,
The Fuzztones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Severed Heads,
Tropical Tobacco,
Reagan Youth,
Kayak,
Arab on Radar,
the Bar-Kays,
Intrusion,
Ralphi Rosario,
Brothers Johnson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Laurel Aitken,
The Angels of Light,
Wolf Eyes,
Josef K,
Minnie Riperton,
Bill Near,
Roger Hodgson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
China Crisis,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Inner City,
Underground Resistance,
Roxy Music,
The Star Department,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Moleskins,
Wally Richardson,
The Slackers,
Ice-T,
The Mojo Men,
The J.B.'s,
Bang On A Can,
Patti Smith,
Index,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tears for Fears,
Grauzone,
Deadbeat,
Agent Orange,
Von Mondo,
The Searchers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Easy Going,
Jesper Dahlback,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Essential Logic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Babytalk,
PIL,
New York Dolls,
Deakin,
KRS-One,
Fad Gadget,
Slick Rick,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.