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 Mexico and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Gang of Four to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Cecil Taylor,
Harmonia,
Eurythmics,
Stiv Bators,
Robert Wyatt,
a-ha,
Sex Pistols,
X-102,
Loose Ends,
Davy DMX,
Blake Baxter,
Juan Atkins,
U.S. Maple,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Arab on Radar,
The Beau Brummels,
Tim Buckley,
John Holt,
D'Angelo,
Radiohead,
DJ Style,
Boz Scaggs,
Suburban Knight,
John Lydon,
X-101,
The Monks,
Cybotron,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joey Negro,
Joe Smooth,
Soft Cell,
Rhythm & Sound,
Josef K,
One Last Wish,
Warsaw,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Stooges,
the Sonics,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Swell Maps,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Birthday Party,
Shoche,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Leonard Cohen,
Quando Quango,
Fluxion,
The Gun Club,
Au Pairs,
Minor Threat,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fall,
Moby Grape,
Ken Boothe,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Unrelated Segments,
Arthur Verocai,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kas Product,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, 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.