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 Morocco and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eric B and Rakim to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Quantec,
Scott Walker,
The Stooges,
Wally Richardson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Adolescents,
Sex Pistols,
Royal Trux,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gang Starr,
Robert Wyatt,
Index,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Man Parrish,
Freddie Wadling,
The Associates,
The Move,
The Moleskins,
Howard Jones,
CMW,
Boredoms,
MDC,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Newcleus,
Circle Jerks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joy Division,
Pylon,
Severed Heads,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Martian,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eric Dolphy,
ABBA,
Mark Hollis,
Jandek,
Visage,
Soul II Soul,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joensuu 1685,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Robert Görl,
Shuggie Otis,
Morten Harket,
10cc,
Scion,
Porter Ricks,
Swell Maps,
The Slackers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dual Sessions,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Human League,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Womack,
Rosa Yemen,
Lou Reed,
H. Thieme,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DNA,
Outsiders,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.