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 Israel and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
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 clarinet 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 8 Eyed Spy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Pantaleimon,
Dark Day,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Second Layer,
Das Ding,
Colin Newman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Flag,
Moss Icon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mo-Dettes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Con Funk Shun,
Dawn Penn,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobby Byrd,
Bush Tetras,
Eden Ahbez,
Kaleidoscope,
Lalann,
Pagans,
10cc,
the Germs,
Agitation Free,
Carl Craig,
Crooked Eye,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fatback Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
B.T. Express,
K-Klass,
Eddi Front,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Black Sheep,
Bluetip,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gang Starr,
Nation of Ulysses,
Livin' Joy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lungfish,
Sugar Minott,
Thee Headcoats,
Minor Threat,
Soft Cell,
Little Man,
Niagra,
These Immortal Souls,
June of 44,
Funkadelic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bill Wells,
Guru Guru,
Clear Light,
Grandmaster Flash,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.