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 Gambia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 K-Klass to the electroclash 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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
One Last Wish,
48th St. Collective,
Susan Cadogan,
Slick Rick,
Desert Stars,
Simply Red,
Mark Hollis,
Hot Snakes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bronski Beat,
Kool Moe Dee,
The American Breed,
Moby Grape,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Fat Boys,
Shuggie Otis,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Moss Icon,
Graham Central Station,
Iggy Pop,
Shoche,
Los Fastidios,
T.S.O.L.,
Robert Wyatt,
David McCallum,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
MC5,
Main Source,
the Swans,
Amazonics,
Suicide,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crooked Eye,
Charles Mingus,
Flamin' Groovies,
Avey Tare,
The Cowsills,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marc Almond,
Crime,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Morten Harket,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joy Division,
Yellowson,
Andrew Hill,
John Coltrane,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Angels of Light,
Ituana,
John Foxx,
UT,
Eurythmics,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.