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 Thailand and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Los Fastidios to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flash Fearless record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Little Man,
Cal Tjader,
Parry Music,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Rufus Thomas,
Steve Hackett,
The J.B.'s,
Letta Mbulu,
Siglo XX,
Gong,
Metal Thangz,
Ronan,
Sound Behaviour,
Agitation Free,
Tubeway Army,
Inner City,
Brass Construction,
Max Romeo,
Lower 48,
Model 500,
Davy DMX,
Guru Guru,
The Offenders,
the Germs,
Barbara Tucker,
Mo-Dettes,
Basic Channel,
The Move,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Monks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Technova,
Ultra Naté,
Brand Nubian,
The Litter,
The Leaves,
The Mummies,
Tim Buckley,
Half Japanese,
Monolake,
Country Teasers,
The Electric Prunes,
Al Stewart,
Soulsonic Force,
The Pretty Things,
Marine Girls,
Erykah Badu,
Pet Shop Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
Kas Product,
T.S.O.L.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Deakin,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.