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 Seychelles and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Michelle Simonal to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Cowsills,
Malaria!,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Model 500,
Public Enemy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Guru Guru,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Colin Newman,
The Vogues,
The Smiths,
Ituana,
Can,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Electric Prunes,
The Durutti Column,
Vainqueur,
Organ,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Accadde A,
Cal Tjader,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Panda Bear,
Aloha Tigers,
Max Romeo,
Cheater Slicks,
The Sonics,
Ornette Coleman,
Maleditus Sound,
Robert Wyatt,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Scion,
the Association,
Susan Cadogan,
The Barracudas,
Aswad,
Livin' Joy,
Howard Jones,
Mission of Burma,
Mantronix,
Radio Birdman,
Stiv Bators,
Gong,
Bang On A Can,
The Birthday Party,
Joensuu 1685,
the Germs,
Suicide,
Sister Nancy,
Echospace,
kango's stein massive,
The Five Americans,
Fear,
Adolescents,
Arab on Radar,
One Last Wish,
Letta Mbulu,
Boogie Down Productions,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.