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 Montenegro 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare 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 Erykah Badu to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Don Cherry,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scientists,
The Last Poets,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Litter,
Malaria!,
The Toasters,
Interpol,
Bobby Womack,
Skriet,
The Moody Blues,
Slave,
Crispian St. Peters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Deepchord,
Wings,
Stetsasonic,
Monolake,
Archie Shepp,
Faraquet,
the Germs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Index,
Rekid,
Model 500,
Drexciya,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Doors,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
John Holt,
Heaven 17,
Section 25,
Tim Buckley,
David McCallum,
Soft Cell,
Dark Day,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Depeche Mode,
Blake Baxter,
Bob Dylan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Livin' Joy,
Howard Jones,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hasil Adkins,
the Swans,
The Dead C,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Beau Brummels,
Byron Stingily,
The Blues Magoos,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Divine Comedy,
Arthur Verocai,
Henry Cow,
Bill Wells,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.