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 Zambia and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 kango's stein massive to the grunge 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Essential Logic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Fluxion,
Stetsasonic,
the Germs,
Pussy Galore,
Minny Pops,
Archie Shepp,
The Motions,
Lou Reed,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Max Romeo,
Cheater Slicks,
The Sonics,
Barrington Levy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Toni Rubio,
the Normal,
Subhumans,
Gong,
Alphaville,
Spoonie Gee,
Organ,
Glambeats Corp.,
Harry Pussy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Youth Brigade,
Mantronix,
Rosa Yemen,
The Techniques,
Al Stewart,
Joe Smooth,
Eurythmics,
UT,
Half Japanese,
JFA,
Hot Snakes,
Mad Mike,
Schoolly D,
A Certain Ratio,
Boredoms,
The Fire Engines,
Ronnie Foster,
Monolake,
D'Angelo,
The Real Kids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sandy B,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Silicon Teens,
Connie Case,
Jeru the Damaja,
Quantec,
Parry Music,
Gil Scott Heron,
New Order,
FM Einheit,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Slackers,
Main Source,
Ronan,
Sam Rivers,
Alison Limerick,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.