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 St Kitts & Nevis and from London.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Mad Mike to the techno 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Q and Not U,
Scion,
Fatback Band,
Connie Case,
Saccharine Trust,
Steve Hackett,
X-Ray Spex,
The Associates,
Jeru the Damaja,
Subhumans,
The Young Rascals,
Marshall Jefferson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lyres,
Marvin Gaye,
John Lydon,
Franke,
Rufus Thomas,
Malaria!,
Skriet,
Frankie Knuckles,
Thompson Twins,
Marmalade,
Black Moon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Iggy Pop,
Country Teasers,
The Fall,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crispian St. Peters,
Au Pairs,
Zapp,
Amon Düül,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Dead C,
Monks,
Boredoms,
Robert Hood,
Gabor Szabo,
Scratch Acid,
The Sonics,
Mars,
Spandau Ballet,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Sonics,
Sonic Youth,
Ponytail,
Vladislav Delay,
Icehouse,
Bang On A Can,
Gang Green,
The Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Scan 7,
the Slits,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Barracudas,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.