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 Malawi and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Holger Czukay 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 Nils Olav to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Visage,
Terry Callier,
UT,
Godley & Creme,
Excepter,
Susan Cadogan,
The Moleskins,
Idris Muhammad,
Fear,
The Monks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bluetip,
Silicon Teens,
Soul Sonic Force,
Trumans Water,
Circle Jerks,
Fatback Band,
Joy Division,
K-Klass,
Peter & Gordon,
A Certain Ratio,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cecil Taylor,
Lyres,
Al Stewart,
John Cale,
The Evens,
Minnie Riperton,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Amon Düül,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tres Demented,
Marmalade,
Liliput,
Lightning Bolt,
Main Source,
Skarface,
Wings,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Stereo Dub,
The Slits,
Banda Bassotti,
Nas,
Avey Tare,
Anakelly,
Radio Birdman,
Public Enemy,
Blancmange,
Gang Gang Dance,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marine Girls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roxette,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Arcadia,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roy Ayers,
Matthew Halsall,
The Saints,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.