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 Libya and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Quando Quango to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
The Leaves,
Aural Exciters,
MDC,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Residents,
Piero Umiliani,
the Germs,
The Gun Club,
Letta Mbulu,
Surgeon,
Radio Birdman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Peter and Kerry,
Marshall Jefferson,
Agent Orange,
Iggy Pop,
The Motions,
Babytalk,
Siglo XX,
Shoche,
Curtis Mayfield,
Faraquet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Essential Logic,
Thompson Twins,
Negative Approach,
The Divine Comedy,
Subhumans,
Barbara Tucker,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
LL Cool J,
Wolf Eyes,
Dawn Penn,
Metal Thangz,
The Dead C,
The Star Department,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Absolute Body Control,
Fad Gadget,
L. Decosne,
Skarface,
Scan 7,
Pere Ubu,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Sherman,
Can,
La Düsseldorf,
CMW,
Hardrive,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Henry Cow,
10cc,
Tom Boy,
Harry Pussy,
Urselle,
June Days,
The Cure,
Chris & Cosey,
Yazoo,
Vainqueur,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.