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 St Lucia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare 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 Talk Talk to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Black Sheep,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cymande,
The Selecter,
June of 44,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arab on Radar,
Pantaleimon,
MDC,
Swell Maps,
Piero Umiliani,
Spoonie Gee,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lalo Schifrin,
Black Pus,
Aaron Thompson,
Fat Boys,
The Golliwogs,
Con Funk Shun,
Niagra,
Danielle Patucci,
Lyres,
the Human League,
Electric Prunes,
Mission of Burma,
Wire,
Bronski Beat,
Sonic Youth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pulsallama,
Neil Young,
Cybotron,
Accadde A,
Man Parrish,
Fear,
Flash Fearless,
Eden Ahbez,
U.S. Maple,
Rapeman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Toni Rubio,
Wasted Youth,
The Cramps,
Henry Cow,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
T. Rex,
Country Teasers,
The Cowsills,
Marshall Jefferson,
New Age Steppers,
Godley & Creme,
Girls At Our Best!,
Throbbing Gristle,
Popol Vuh,
Althea and Donna,
The Moleskins,
Fatback Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fortunes,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.