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 Korea South and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Eden Ahbez,
The Tremeloes,
Au Pairs,
Groovy Waters,
The Star Department,
Wally Richardson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Grey Daturas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Barracudas,
Pere Ubu,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Gun Club,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
The New Christs,
Hardrive,
The American Breed,
The Names,
Donald Byrd,
Scott Walker,
Terry Callier,
Johnny Osbourne,
World's Most,
Marc Almond,
UT,
Pharoah Sanders,
Aloha Tigers,
Public Enemy,
Chris Corsano,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Babytalk,
Gil Scott Heron,
Neil Young,
Amon Düül II,
Roxette,
Gabor Szabo,
Joensuu 1685,
Minny Pops,
The Monks,
Donny Hathaway,
Lakeside,
Loose Ends,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Shoche,
Rod Modell,
Black Pus,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Vainqueur,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radiohead,
Yazoo,
Davy DMX,
Brass Construction,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.