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 Uganda and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Vainqueur to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
B.T. Express,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Banda Bassotti,
the Human League,
Gong,
Cecil Taylor,
Intrusion,
The Doobie Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
Marc Almond,
The Beau Brummels,
Mandrill,
The Divine Comedy,
Blossom Toes,
Guru Guru,
June Days,
Maurizio,
Sight & Sound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aloha Tigers,
Sound Behaviour,
Brass Construction,
Boredoms,
Gastr Del Sol,
Suburban Knight,
Ice-T,
Theoretical Girls,
Sandy B,
Second Layer,
Mr. Review,
Sugar Minott,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nico,
Henry Cow,
Eve St. Jones,
Bobby Byrd,
Bang On A Can,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Juan Atkins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Alison Limerick,
a-ha,
Dark Day,
Wally Richardson,
Black Sheep,
Absolute Body Control,
Radiopuhelimet,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Groovy Waters,
Swell Maps,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Quadrant,
Idris Muhammad,
Laurel Aitken,
The United States of America,
Lou Reed,
The Modern Lovers,
Oblivians,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.