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 Ukraine and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 sitar 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Panda Bear,
The Golliwogs,
Hoover,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
New Order,
Quadrant,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Searchers,
Fela Kuti,
Shuggie Otis,
John Lydon,
The Names,
R.M.O.,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Bananas,
The Shadows of Knight,
DNA,
Jeff Lynne,
the Germs,
The Index,
Delon & Dalcan,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Mummies,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fire Engines,
Khruangbin,
Moss Icon,
Brothers Johnson,
Con Funk Shun,
Bill Near,
The Smoke,
Q65,
FM Einheit,
Absolute Body Control,
Negative Approach,
Barry Ungar,
Susan Cadogan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Starr,
Ultra Naté,
The Remains,
Nik Kershaw,
Electric Prunes,
Al Stewart,
Man Parrish,
Aaron Thompson,
MDC,
DJ Style,
The Raincoats,
Kas Product,
Cecil Taylor,
The Slits,
Bill Wells,
Dark Day,
Gang Green,
Alton Ellis,
Lindisfarne,
The Motions,
Visage,
Sexual Harrassment,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.