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 Kosovo and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Barrington Levy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Man Parrish,
Lou Christie,
Second Layer,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sexual Harrassment,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
June Days,
Motorama,
Bluetip,
Marine Girls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Fire Engines,
Moebius,
Neu!,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Graham Central Station,
Gong,
Tres Demented,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Albert Ayler,
F. McDonald,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
X-101,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Metal Thangz,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Mighty Diamonds,
John Holt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ohio Players,
The Barracudas,
Panda Bear,
The Kinks,
The Real Kids,
Shuggie Otis,
Cecil Taylor,
Boogie Down Productions,
Desert Stars,
Crooked Eye,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mr. Review,
The Leaves,
Eddi Front,
The Evens,
Minutemen,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jeru the Damaja,
Youth Brigade,
Groovy Waters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Vogues,
The Alarm Clocks,
Isaac Hayes,
The Remains,
Basic Channel,
Electric Prunes,
Niagra,
Con Funk Shun,
Fluxion,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.