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 Congo and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Slits to the disco 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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nas,
Girls At Our Best!,
Desert Stars,
Can,
Urselle,
B.T. Express,
Darondo,
Lindisfarne,
The Moody Blues,
Mark Hollis,
Q and Not U,
Y Pants,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pulsallama,
The Detroit Cobras,
Aural Exciters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gap Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Main Source,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers,
K-Klass,
Ituana,
Sister Nancy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jeff Mills,
Rapeman,
A Certain Ratio,
Juan Atkins,
Thompson Twins,
The Sound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Slackers,
Cybotron,
Isaac Hayes,
Avey Tare,
Lucky Dragons,
Toni Rubio,
Soft Cell,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tim Buckley,
Malaria!,
Los Fastidios,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fortunes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
EPMD,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Slave,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jacob Miller,
Terry Callier,
Barbara Tucker,
Section 25,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.