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 Switzerland and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Fat Boys to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
X-102,
Mission of Burma,
Alphaville,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
L. Decosne,
Little Man,
Todd Terry,
Monks,
Joe Finger,
Bootsy Collins,
Jawbox,
John Coltrane,
Hoover,
The Martian,
The Saints,
Ossler,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jeff Mills,
Nirvana,
Japan,
Andrew Hill,
Das Ding,
The Birthday Party,
Dual Sessions,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Peter & Gordon,
Glenn Branca,
Bill Wells,
Joensuu 1685,
Q65,
The Five Americans,
Ronan,
Lindisfarne,
Rufus Thomas,
Brick,
Laurel Aitken,
Delon & Dalcan,
New Order,
Schoolly D,
Bill Near,
Dark Day,
Tim Buckley,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fatback Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Scratch Acid,
Mark Hollis,
Warren Ellis,
Rosa Yemen,
E-Dancer,
The Sonics,
Jerry's Kids,
The Happenings,
T. Rex,
Lower 48,
Rod Modell,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobby Sherman,
Eden Ahbez,
The Golliwogs,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.