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 Tunisia and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 The Dirtbombs to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Ossler,
Joyce Sims,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tommy Roe,
Hasil Adkins,
Robert Wyatt,
Cheater Slicks,
Colin Newman,
The Knickerbockers,
Simply Red,
Reuben Wilson,
Hashim,
Joe Finger,
The Zeros,
Soft Cell,
Mission of Burma,
The Tremeloes,
In Retrospect,
Symarip,
Crispian St. Peters,
Liliput,
Swans,
Banda Bassotti,
Drive Like Jehu,
Stiv Bators,
Lyres,
Aswad,
Black Sheep,
X-Ray Spex,
48th St. Collective,
Parry Music,
Lakeside,
The Index,
The Busters,
La Düsseldorf,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Gun Club,
Lee Hazlewood,
Anakelly,
Flipper,
Shoche,
Ultravox,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Zapp,
Alice Coltrane,
Scratch Acid,
Jandek,
Kurtis Blow,
R.M.O.,
Ken Boothe,
Scientists,
Black Pus,
DJ Style,
Flash Fearless,
Charles Mingus,
Dave Gahan,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.