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 Fiji and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin 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 a-ha to the electroclash 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
E-Dancer,
Nirvana,
The Blues Magoos,
Marine Girls,
Suicide,
Robert Wyatt,
Stiv Bators,
Altered Images,
New Order,
Roy Ayers,
In Retrospect,
Dave Gahan,
Alton Ellis,
Malaria!,
The Leaves,
Subhumans,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Womack,
Rekid,
kango's stein massive,
Jimmy McGriff,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sun City Girls,
Banda Bassotti,
Dennis Brown,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
FM Einheit,
Swans,
John Cale,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scratch Acid,
B.T. Express,
Mad Mike,
the Bar-Kays,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ossler,
Rufus Thomas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Moss Icon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Andrew Hill,
Lower 48,
Ultra Naté,
Mantronix,
The Buckinghams,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gladiators,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Raincoats,
Outsiders,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Donny Hathaway,
Buzzcocks,
Half Japanese,
Brothers Johnson,
Angry Samoans,
The Fuzztones,
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.