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 Antigua and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 arpeggiator 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 Junior Murvin to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Pole,
The Dead C,
Vainqueur,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Intrusion,
Joey Negro,
Michelle Simonal,
Malaria!,
The Red Krayola,
Lou Christie,
Metal Thangz,
Marc Almond,
Gil Scott Heron,
Maurizio,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Invisible,
Hoover,
Brass Construction,
Bobby Sherman,
Technova,
Sun City Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Zero Boys,
Dead Boys,
The Fortunes,
The Trojans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Black Dice,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Surgeon,
Steve Hackett,
The Skatalites,
Fear,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Human League,
H. Thieme,
Monolake,
Swans,
Panda Bear,
Buzzcocks,
EPMD,
Mary Jane Girls,
T.S.O.L.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lightning Bolt,
Black Pus,
Leonard Cohen,
The Mojo Men,
Delta 5,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Freddie Wadling,
Moby Grape,
the Normal,
Subhumans,
Q65,
Bang On A Can,
E-Dancer,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.