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 South Sudan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord 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 Fatback Band to the punk 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sex Pistols,
Marine Girls,
Avey Tare,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The United States of America,
Scan 7,
Colin Newman,
Nas,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alison Limerick,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tears for Fears,
The Evens,
Trumans Water,
Japan,
Letta Mbulu,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gabor Szabo,
Royal Trux,
David Axelrod,
Altered Images,
The New Christs,
Porter Ricks,
Soulsonic Force,
The Vogues,
The Index,
The Fuzztones,
Soul II Soul,
Flipper,
Scott Walker,
Tommy Roe,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eve St. Jones,
Moss Icon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kas Product,
The Associates,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mission of Burma,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Robert Hood,
Bronski Beat,
Crash Course in Science,
Bootsy Collins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
ABC,
Loose Ends,
Susan Cadogan,
Ten City,
Deepchord,
Fat Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
The Red Krayola,
This Heat,
Interpol,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pulsallama,
Supertramp,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.