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 Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Clear Light 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Blancmange,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Index,
Black Sheep,
Dark Day,
The Dead C,
B.T. Express,
Rapeman,
Marine Girls,
Bad Manners,
The Birthday Party,
Intrusion,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Colin Newman,
This Heat,
World's Most,
Outsiders,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Invisible,
Amazonics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cybotron,
Reuben Wilson,
Aural Exciters,
Soulsonic Force,
Sarah Menescal,
Anakelly,
JFA,
Masters at Work,
ABBA,
Kayak,
Deakin,
Schoolly D,
Crispy Ambulance,
Robert Görl,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Spandau Ballet,
Cluster,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
10cc,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Deadbeat,
Average White Band,
Nico,
Robert Hood,
Flipper,
Quando Quango,
Los Fastidios,
The Blues Magoos,
Sex Pistols,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ludus,
Babytalk,
The Blackbyrds,
Vladislav Delay,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.