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 Oman and from London.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet 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 Donald Byrd to the funk 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Moss Icon,
The Motions,
Man Eating Sloth,
Young Marble Giants,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hashim,
Ultimate Spinach,
B.T. Express,
Terry Callier,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Average White Band,
Aural Exciters,
The Five Americans,
Cheater Slicks,
Clear Light,
Wings,
Josef K,
Second Layer,
The Victims,
Niagra,
Bill Wells,
The Leaves,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Gladiators,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Shadows of Knight,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mr. Review,
The Evens,
The Cowsills,
48th St. Collective,
Zapp,
Can,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soft Cell,
Stetsasonic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tomorrow,
The Residents,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
David McCallum,
John Foxx,
These Immortal Souls,
Scientists,
Skriet,
Pere Ubu,
Dual Sessions,
Lou Christie,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
cv313,
Rites of Spring,
Harry Pussy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Drexciya,
Nils Olav,
The Slits,
Amazonics,
Archie Shepp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mars,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.