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 Equatorial Guinea and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Salvador.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the crunk 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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Judy Mowatt,
Pere Ubu,
Patti Smith,
Terry Callier,
Suicide,
AZ,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Divine Comedy,
John Holt,
Matthew Halsall,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fat Boys,
Joy Division,
Amazonics,
Crime,
Pylon,
Jacques Brel,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dark Day,
Banda Bassotti,
Duran Duran,
Silicon Teens,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Moebius,
Scott Walker,
Wire,
Metal Thangz,
Pierre Henry,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Davy DMX,
Bauhaus,
Leonard Cohen,
Lou Reed,
Nik Kershaw,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stiv Bators,
Ralphi Rosario,
Public Image Ltd.,
Television,
Liliput,
John Coltrane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wally Richardson,
Neil Young,
Sight & Sound,
Moby Grape,
Cymande,
The Dirtbombs,
the Soft Cell,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Suburban Knight,
Arthur Verocai,
Kurtis Blow,
Ituana,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pole,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.