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 Zambia and from Madrid.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
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 oboe 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 Franke to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Pagans,
The American Breed,
David Bowie,
Black Moon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aloha Tigers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Doors,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hoover,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pet Shop Boys,
Royal Trux,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Altered Images,
Brick,
Johnny Osbourne,
Model 500,
The Smoke,
Mad Mike,
Angry Samoans,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Livin' Joy,
Johnny Clarke,
Brand Nubian,
The Divine Comedy,
China Crisis,
the Swans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Goldenarms,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mantronix,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jeru the Damaja,
ABBA,
Arthur Verocai,
Maurizio,
Byron Stingily,
The Slits,
Ponytail,
Tomorrow,
The Litter,
New Age Steppers,
Fad Gadget,
Guru Guru,
The Real Kids,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Toni Rubio,
New York Dolls,
The Mummies,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
Dennis Brown,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Bar-Kays,
L. Decosne,
Unrelated Segments,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.