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 Ireland and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Spandau Ballet to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Dave Gahan,
The J.B.'s,
Liliput,
Joy Division,
The Birthday Party,
Thompson Twins,
Todd Terry,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
ABBA,
Radio Birdman,
Boredoms,
Ituana,
Slick Rick,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hasil Adkins,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Grass Roots,
Rekid,
The Kinks,
Colin Newman,
Talk Talk,
The Remains,
Sister Nancy,
Stiv Bators,
Gang Starr,
Blake Baxter,
Frankie Knuckles,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Moleskins,
Icehouse,
Sam Rivers,
Magma,
June of 44,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Soul Sonic Force,
Los Fastidios,
June Days,
Soft Machine,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Japan,
The Dead C,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Mantronix,
Crime,
Shoche,
Pussy Galore,
E-Dancer,
Pagans,
New Order,
Eve St. Jones,
Buzzcocks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Isaac Hayes,
Flash Fearless,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Suburban Knight,
Deadbeat,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Mojo Men,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.