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 Mexico City.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar 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 Bang On A Can to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Toni Rubio,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Unwound,
Althea and Donna,
Aswad,
The Slits,
Inner City,
Silicon Teens,
The Shadows of Knight,
Isaac Hayes,
Agitation Free,
Rhythm & Sound,
Audionom,
The Young Rascals,
AZ,
Index,
Graham Central Station,
Mars,
Livin' Joy,
The Busters,
The Move,
Icehouse,
Carl Craig,
Quando Quango,
Popol Vuh,
Ornette Coleman,
Thee Headcoats,
Erykah Badu,
Bush Tetras,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crash Course in Science,
The Kinks,
Black Bananas,
The Slackers,
Gang Green,
The Last Poets,
Monolake,
Alphaville,
8 Eyed Spy,
Donald Byrd,
Fatback Band,
The Monks,
Connie Case,
Scion,
Sister Nancy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cal Tjader,
The Techniques,
Bobby Womack,
Lindisfarne,
Sparks,
The Happenings,
The Gap Band,
Eli Mardock,
Johnny Osbourne,
Peter and Kerry,
Scott Walker,
The Skatalites,
Don Cherry,
Eyeless In Gaza,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.