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 Micronesia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb 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 Roxy Music to the techno 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Techniques,
The Divine Comedy,
The Searchers,
Fatback Band,
The Fall,
The United States of America,
R.M.O.,
Al Stewart,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Porter Ricks,
Youth Brigade,
Maleditus Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
Subhumans,
The Star Department,
New York Dolls,
Jacques Brel,
The Cramps,
Ludus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Prince Buster,
Loose Ends,
Aloha Tigers,
Gong,
The Vogues,
Jeff Mills,
Heaven 17,
Glambeats Corp.,
Chris & Cosey,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dave Clark Five,
Boz Scaggs,
L. Decosne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Max Romeo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Aswad,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
OOIOO,
Anthony Braxton,
Connie Case,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Blake Baxter,
Erasure,
Groovy Waters,
Leonard Cohen,
cv313,
Ralphi Rosario,
Letta Mbulu,
Juan Atkins,
Rites of Spring,
Ultra Naté,
John Cale,
Bizarre Inc.,
Warsaw,
The Five Americans,
Funkadelic,
Q and Not U,
Isaac Hayes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Flamin' Groovies,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.