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 Samoa and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer 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 The Dead C to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Gichy Dan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Moss Icon,
The Moody Blues,
The Toasters,
The Cure,
Das Ding,
Banda Bassotti,
Scrapy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Warsaw,
Sound Behaviour,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Stooges,
The Walker Brothers,
Television,
The Litter,
Thee Headcoats,
Ralphi Rosario,
Quantec,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Birthday Party,
John Coltrane,
The Angels of Light,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barclay James Harvest,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dark Day,
Sam Rivers,
Juan Atkins,
This Heat,
H. Thieme,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sixth Finger,
Depeche Mode,
Roxette,
Icehouse,
Dead Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grauzone,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Womack,
Lyres,
Swell Maps,
Rekid,
Amazonics,
Popol Vuh,
Technova,
Flash Fearless,
Bootsy Collins,
the Soft Cell,
The Five Americans,
Minor Threat,
Fatback Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Kayak,
Animal Collective,
Joyce Sims,
AZ,
Grandmaster Flash,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.