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 Vanuatu and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ 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 Quadrant to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Bad Manners,
MC5,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Shoche,
Sarah Menescal,
Q65,
Howard Jones,
Mr. Review,
The Modern Lovers,
Brand Nubian,
Urselle,
Piero Umiliani,
Gong,
LL Cool J,
The Blues Magoos,
The Kinks,
The Techniques,
Lindisfarne,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Fania All-Stars,
Das Ding,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Remains,
Negative Approach,
FM Einheit,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soul II Soul,
Unrelated Segments,
John Lydon,
Ice-T,
Erykah Badu,
Slave,
Black Flag,
The Litter,
Roxy Music,
Ponytail,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Sheep,
Barbara Tucker,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scientists,
MDC,
Janne Schatter,
Pole,
T. Rex,
Nik Kershaw,
Khruangbin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Juan Atkins,
Desert Stars,
John Foxx,
H. Thieme,
Bobby Womack,
The Sound,
Los Fastidios,
Yaz,
Pantytec,
Faust,
Nation of Ulysses,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.