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 South Africa and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 PIL to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron 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 harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Sarah Menescal,
Brothers Johnson,
The Knickerbockers,
Althea and Donna,
Zapp,
The Skatalites,
New York Dolls,
a-ha,
Joyce Sims,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scott Walker,
Wasted Youth,
Warsaw,
Carl Craig,
Heaven 17,
New Order,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Selecter,
June of 44,
Arab on Radar,
Lucky Dragons,
Goldenarms,
The Gap Band,
The Cramps,
Nils Olav,
Groovy Waters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tom Boy,
Sonic Youth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Durutti Column,
Absolute Body Control,
Minor Threat,
The Moleskins,
T.S.O.L.,
Soft Machine,
Quando Quango,
Second Layer,
John Coltrane,
Rites of Spring,
Flash Fearless,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fela Kuti,
Derrick Morgan,
Joe Finger,
Minny Pops,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Girls At Our Best!,
Icehouse,
Unrelated Segments,
Fluxion,
Echospace,
Shoche,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Franke,
DNA,
Cheater Slicks,
LL Cool J,
Tommy Roe,
Depeche Mode,
Donald Byrd,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.