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 Kuwait and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator 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 The Selecter to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett 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?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sparks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rod Modell,
Roxette,
Alison Limerick,
Sex Pistols,
Dark Day,
Ohio Players,
Little Man,
Connie Case,
Scott Walker,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
F. McDonald,
Matthew Bourne,
The Young Rascals,
The Busters,
Cecil Taylor,
Eric Dolphy,
Slick Rick,
Robert Görl,
Reuben Wilson,
Tomorrow,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Quando Quango,
Albert Ayler,
The Sound,
The Fortunes,
Average White Band,
Sister Nancy,
Glenn Branca,
Youth Brigade,
The Walker Brothers,
The American Breed,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Monochrome Set,
Jimmy McGriff,
Altered Images,
Electric Prunes,
Grauzone,
Aaron Thompson,
Dead Boys,
Vainqueur,
Lucky Dragons,
The Blues Magoos,
The Techniques,
Yellowson,
Heaven 17,
The Index,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Groovy Waters,
DNA,
Bobby Byrd,
Pole,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mad Mike,
The Velvet Underground,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
T.S.O.L.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joe Smooth,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.