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 Jamaica and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Tomorrow to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. 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?
Masters at Work,
Kas Product,
Model 500,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cameo,
Howard Jones,
F. McDonald,
Heaven 17,
the Bar-Kays,
The Music Machine,
DNA,
Joyce Sims,
Shoche,
La Düsseldorf,
Black Bananas,
Interpol,
Al Stewart,
Hot Snakes,
Metal Thangz,
Circle Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Magma,
Roxy Music,
John Lydon,
Crooked Eye,
The Victims,
Rufus Thomas,
Aural Exciters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Y Pants,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
ABBA,
Quadrant,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Cale,
Pussy Galore,
Fela Kuti,
Davy DMX,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Spoonie Gee,
Schoolly D,
Accadde A,
Kerrie Biddell,
Easy Going,
Scan 7,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sight & Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
X-101,
Television,
Crime,
Man Eating Sloth,
The J.B.'s,
Robert Hood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Avey Tare,
Desert Stars,
Eden Ahbez,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun Ra,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.