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 Burkina and from Jakarta.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Bobby Sherman to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Sister Nancy,
Joy Division,
Sarah Menescal,
Eve St. Jones,
The Busters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pantaleimon,
Sugar Minott,
Mandrill,
Zero Boys,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crime,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Skarface,
Andrew Hill,
the Sonics,
Nas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Buckinghams,
Public Image Ltd.,
Toni Rubio,
Don Cherry,
Siglo XX,
ABBA,
The Associates,
Technova,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kaleidoscope,
Hoover,
Maurizio,
Half Japanese,
Kas Product,
The Skatalites,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Zeros,
Con Funk Shun,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ornette Coleman,
Faust,
Robert Hood,
China Crisis,
Babytalk,
Howard Jones,
Lakeside,
The Doors,
Cheater Slicks,
Fugazi,
Niagra,
The American Breed,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eric Dolphy,
The Birthday Party,
Dual Sessions,
Eric Copeland,
Terry Callier,
Zapp,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Shuggie Otis,
Minny Pops,
Dead Boys,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.