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 Palau and from Hong Kong.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the rock 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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Mars,
David Bowie,
48th St. Collective,
Groovy Waters,
The Litter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Youth Brigade,
Pantaleimon,
Joy Division,
Organ,
Sixth Finger,
Cameo,
The Victims,
The Seeds,
Make Up,
Marvin Gaye,
The Stooges,
Sarah Menescal,
DJ Style,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eric B and Rakim,
Drexciya,
Gregory Isaacs,
Agent Orange,
Lightning Bolt,
Supertramp,
Leonard Cohen,
Cymande,
The Divine Comedy,
Joe Smooth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Q and Not U,
Byron Stingily,
DNA,
Radiopuhelimet,
Josef K,
Maurizio,
The Busters,
Gabor Szabo,
Half Japanese,
David Axelrod,
World's Most,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Darondo,
James White and The Blacks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bootsy Collins,
Marc Almond,
The Barracudas,
Banda Bassotti,
Animal Collective,
Henry Cow,
Radio Birdman,
Amon Düül,
Liliput,
Michelle Simonal,
Sister Nancy,
Isaac Hayes,
Ten City,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Selecter,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.