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 Kuwait and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Accadde A to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
These Immortal Souls,
Bush Tetras,
Inner City,
La Düsseldorf,
Black Flag,
Stockholm Monsters,
Groovy Waters,
Wasted Youth,
The Smoke,
T. Rex,
Magazine,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sam Rivers,
Scrapy,
Magma,
Max Romeo,
Peter & Gordon,
The Mojo Men,
Lee Hazlewood,
D'Angelo,
Jerry's Kids,
UT,
Reuben Wilson,
The Selecter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crash Course in Science,
Spoonie Gee,
Spandau Ballet,
Lungfish,
Bill Wells,
Tommy Roe,
Minny Pops,
Pylon,
Blossom Toes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jacob Miller,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Buckinghams,
Avey Tare,
Ossler,
Davy DMX,
The J.B.'s,
Mr. Review,
Fear,
JFA,
Wally Richardson,
Marvin Gaye,
Sandy B,
Lalann,
Nico,
The Blues Magoos,
Anthony Braxton,
Funky Four + One,
The Beau Brummels,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lucky Dragons,
Soul II Soul,
Model 500,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.