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 Laos and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Cowsills to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. 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?
Zero Boys,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rosa Yemen,
Flamin' Groovies,
Max Romeo,
Animal Collective,
Symarip,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sister Nancy,
K-Klass,
The Names,
Ken Boothe,
Organ,
Nik Kershaw,
Kerrie Biddell,
Idris Muhammad,
Pylon,
Juan Atkins,
Spandau Ballet,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Slackers,
The Martian,
The Fall,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fat Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Bob Dylan,
Black Pus,
Moby Grape,
Absolute Body Control,
Aaron Thompson,
Jeff Mills,
Popol Vuh,
Warsaw,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Masters at Work,
Brick,
Surgeon,
Accadde A,
Donald Byrd,
Public Enemy,
D'Angelo,
Quantec,
Suicide,
David Axelrod,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Aural Exciters,
The Divine Comedy,
Iggy Pop,
Black Flag,
Anthony Braxton,
Mantronix,
Sound Behaviour,
Q and Not U,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Mummies,
Tom Boy,
Ohio Players,
Stiv Bators,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.