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 Portugal and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Birthday Party to the grunge 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
The Trojans,
Von Mondo,
The Toasters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Silicon Teens,
Roy Ayers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
ABBA,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bobby Womack,
Goldenarms,
Laurel Aitken,
DJ Style,
ABC,
Barclay James Harvest,
Das Ding,
Liliput,
Pagans,
Unrelated Segments,
The Mummies,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
June of 44,
Aaron Thompson,
Bill Wells,
The Count Five,
The Black Dice,
The Music Machine,
The Cramps,
The Leaves,
Organ,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Groovy Waters,
Y Pants,
Half Japanese,
Young Marble Giants,
Boz Scaggs,
Scientists,
Sixth Finger,
Eddi Front,
Essential Logic,
The Knickerbockers,
Glenn Branca,
The Slits,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Depeche Mode,
Bad Manners,
Charles Mingus,
The J.B.'s,
The Modern Lovers,
Black Sheep,
Josef K,
Curtis Mayfield,
Duran Duran,
Roger Hodgson,
Robert Hood,
Agent Orange,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.