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 Switzerland and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Joy Division to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Throbbing Gristle,
Inner City,
Bobby Womack,
Simply Red,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Whodini,
Groovy Waters,
DJ Sneak,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ice-T,
Darondo,
Jeru the Damaja,
kango's stein massive,
Angry Samoans,
Carl Craig,
Vladislav Delay,
Jeff Mills,
Model 500,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Swell Maps,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Anakelly,
Dorothy Ashby,
L. Decosne,
Public Image Ltd.,
Deakin,
Panda Bear,
Visage,
Susan Cadogan,
Amon Düül,
The Martian,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Make Up,
Minutemen,
The Invisible,
Cheater Slicks,
The Index,
Yellowson,
Urselle,
Sugar Minott,
The Blackbyrds,
Desert Stars,
E-Dancer,
Fluxion,
The Sonics,
Mo-Dettes,
MC5,
Junior Murvin,
Girls At Our Best!,
Suicide,
Donald Byrd,
The Searchers,
The Smiths,
Pantaleimon,
Malaria!,
T.S.O.L.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.