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 Djibouti and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bronski Beat to the dance 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
PIL,
Amon Düül II,
Sister Nancy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Scientists,
Echospace,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lalann,
EPMD,
Pulsallama,
The Flesh Eaters,
New Order,
Roger Hodgson,
The American Breed,
F. McDonald,
Man Parrish,
Vainqueur,
Shuggie Otis,
The Happenings,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Angry Samoans,
One Last Wish,
The Smoke,
Heaven 17,
Motorama,
Amon Düül,
Wally Richardson,
Lou Christie,
Sun City Girls,
Oneida,
Nik Kershaw,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Evens,
The Red Krayola,
Radiopuhelimet,
10cc,
Brothers Johnson,
Reuben Wilson,
Sonic Youth,
The Gun Club,
Joensuu 1685,
Gabor Szabo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
R.M.O.,
Toni Rubio,
Boredoms,
The Fire Engines,
Drexciya,
Jandek,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joe Smooth,
The Victims,
The Human League,
the Normal,
the Human League,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tears for Fears,
Anakelly,
Con Funk Shun,
Ronan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.