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 Israel and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the disco 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scientists,
Derrick May,
Minutemen,
The Busters,
Judy Mowatt,
KRS-One,
Joe Smooth,
Juan Atkins,
Little Man,
Idris Muhammad,
Robert Wyatt,
the Swans,
Country Teasers,
Surgeon,
Amazonics,
The Fugs,
Cecil Taylor,
Erasure,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ponytail,
The Move,
Kurtis Blow,
Man Parrish,
The Shadows of Knight,
La Düsseldorf,
Eric B and Rakim,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Blancmange,
The Remains,
Al Stewart,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Brick,
X-101,
Arcadia,
Yazoo,
Hoover,
The Music Machine,
Deepchord,
Jeff Lynne,
Sister Nancy,
Fugazi,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Yellowson,
Dark Day,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Prince Buster,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Görl,
Brothers Johnson,
Suicide,
Rod Modell,
Negative Approach,
Bobby Sherman,
The Barracudas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fad Gadget,
the Bar-Kays,
Kool Moe Dee,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.