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 Yemen and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Arab on Radar to the dance 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Dave Gahan,
Black Pus,
Arcadia,
Mo-Dettes,
Deakin,
The Motions,
Audionom,
The Durutti Column,
Bang On A Can,
Althea and Donna,
La Düsseldorf,
Bad Manners,
June of 44,
Junior Murvin,
Pole,
Donny Hathaway,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Panda Bear,
Harry Pussy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Divine Comedy,
The Fortunes,
Adolescents,
Kayak,
Rapeman,
China Crisis,
John Coltrane,
the Human League,
David Axelrod,
Chrome,
Whodini,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sparks,
The Dead C,
Marc Almond,
Howard Jones,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amazonics,
Gang Green,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nils Olav,
The Fuzztones,
The Count Five,
Slave,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dawn Penn,
T. Rex,
Gerry Rafferty,
Q and Not U,
Dennis Brown,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
DJ Style,
Yazoo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
D'Angelo,
Boz Scaggs,
Deadbeat,
Man Parrish,
Jacques Brel,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.