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 Ecuador and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 the Slits to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 UT. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Radio Birdman,
Stiv Bators,
The Slits,
Blossom Toes,
The Invisible,
Sparks,
Average White Band,
Surgeon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rhythm & Sound,
Graham Central Station,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fuzztones,
Vladislav Delay,
Animal Collective,
Ohio Players,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pere Ubu,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dawn Penn,
Second Layer,
Arab on Radar,
the Soft Cell,
Derrick Morgan,
Supertramp,
X-101,
a-ha,
Metal Thangz,
Arcadia,
Aaron Thompson,
Heaven 17,
Fat Boys,
Anakelly,
10cc,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Harry Pussy,
The Dead C,
Interpol,
Bobby Byrd,
FM Einheit,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ultra Naté,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Count Five,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cameo,
Kaleidoscope,
the Swans,
Black Bananas,
Terry Callier,
Derrick May,
X-102,
Henry Cow,
Joe Finger,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Siglo XX,
Gastr Del Sol,
One Last Wish,
Lebanon Hanover,
Frankie Knuckles,
Magma,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.