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 Mozambique and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord 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 Fad Gadget to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Roy Ayers,
Youth Brigade,
Josef K,
Sight & Sound,
Unrelated Segments,
Suicide,
Barbara Tucker,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Basic Channel,
Robert Görl,
Bootsy Collins,
The Barracudas,
Alton Ellis,
Zero Boys,
Banda Bassotti,
Steve Hackett,
Joey Negro,
the Normal,
Rapeman,
UT,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Liliput,
Amon Düül II,
Infiniti,
Mad Mike,
Schoolly D,
The Real Kids,
Negative Approach,
Cecil Taylor,
Marc Almond,
Lungfish,
Lakeside,
Anthony Braxton,
Sandy B,
Fatback Band,
Nas,
Jacob Miller,
Ituana,
The Blues Magoos,
Byron Stingily,
Hardrive,
KRS-One,
Sam Rivers,
Japan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Quando Quango,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Spoonie Gee,
The Moody Blues,
Johnny Clarke,
Hoover,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cheater Slicks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Modern Lovers,
Young Marble Giants,
Eurythmics,
Gong,
MDC,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.