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 Ivory Coast and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 chamberlin 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 Metal Thangz to the grunge 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Jerry's Kids,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Smoke,
Aswad,
Cluster,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hashim,
Visage,
The Count Five,
Lalo Schifrin,
The American Breed,
Sound Behaviour,
Idris Muhammad,
Spoonie Gee,
Skaos,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Absolute Body Control,
Von Mondo,
The United States of America,
Mantronix,
Fela Kuti,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scientists,
The Selecter,
The Martian,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fire Engines,
Sonic Youth,
The Slackers,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gap Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Make Up,
Mars,
Electric Prunes,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Kinks,
the Slits,
Wire,
The Last Poets,
Ten City,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobby Womack,
Brick,
Country Teasers,
Hoover,
Newcleus,
Inner City,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Junior Murvin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dave Gahan,
Lower 48,
Echospace,
Curtis Mayfield,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gerry Rafferty,
Faust,
K-Klass,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.