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 Singapore and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Real Kids to the funk 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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Susan Cadogan,
T.S.O.L.,
Faraquet,
Dark Day,
Minor Threat,
Funkadelic,
Joe Finger,
Qualms,
The Blues Magoos,
Crispy Ambulance,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Con Funk Shun,
Agent Orange,
Gang of Four,
Quando Quango,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lakeside,
Talk Talk,
The Trojans,
Ohio Players,
Country Teasers,
Yusef Lateef,
Soul II Soul,
Peter and Kerry,
Lungfish,
The Last Poets,
Patti Smith,
The Misunderstood,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mr. Review,
Sonny Sharrock,
Index,
Michelle Simonal,
David Bowie,
John Cale,
Junior Murvin,
Crime,
Sex Pistols,
JFA,
Matthew Bourne,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Inner City,
Ronan,
Jerry's Kids,
Babytalk,
Nas,
Porter Ricks,
Little Man,
Man Eating Sloth,
Procol Harum,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Evens,
Dawn Penn,
The Neon Judgement,
The Electric Prunes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kerrie Biddell,
Radio Birdman,
The Music Machine,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.