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 Singapore and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Pantaleimon to the dance 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Monks,
The Techniques,
Morten Harket,
Deadbeat,
Inner City,
Porter Ricks,
Aswad,
Marc Almond,
Laurel Aitken,
Duran Duran,
The Divine Comedy,
The Offenders,
Silicon Teens,
The Invisible,
Dave Gahan,
Shoche,
Jimmy McGriff,
Average White Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Suburban Knight,
The Cowsills,
Erasure,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Essential Logic,
Motorama,
The Modern Lovers,
Animal Collective,
Wings,
the Fania All-Stars,
Drexciya,
cv313,
The Cramps,
Electric Prunes,
The Saints,
Banda Bassotti,
Chris Corsano,
Crispy Ambulance,
Josef K,
LL Cool J,
Hardrive,
Bootsy Collins,
Byron Stingily,
Excepter,
Robert Wyatt,
Pantaleimon,
Peter & Gordon,
Rod Modell,
Andrew Hill,
The Birthday Party,
Bush Tetras,
L. Decosne,
Sugar Minott,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Magma,
David McCallum,
The Skatalites,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scientists,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.