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 Tajikistan and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar 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 Big Daddy Kane to the crunk 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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Todd Terry,
R.M.O.,
These Immortal Souls,
Bill Near,
Kool Moe Dee,
UT,
Gang Green,
Bush Tetras,
Bronski Beat,
Nick Fraelich,
David Axelrod,
The Seeds,
Man Parrish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Con Funk Shun,
The Detroit Cobras,
Banda Bassotti,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Young Rascals,
Hoover,
Cheater Slicks,
Public Enemy,
Deadbeat,
Blancmange,
Flash Fearless,
Hardrive,
Jimmy McGriff,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mr. Review,
The Smoke,
The Walker Brothers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Normal,
Charles Mingus,
DNA,
Leonard Cohen,
Angry Samoans,
Warsaw,
The American Breed,
Buzzcocks,
Scrapy,
PIL,
Tres Demented,
Pylon,
The Cramps,
Sam Rivers,
Intrusion,
Royal Trux,
Nils Olav,
Mad Mike,
Hasil Adkins,
the Human League,
The Modern Lovers,
Bobby Sherman,
Derrick May,
Dark Day,
Rapeman,
The Black Dice,
Main Source,
X-Ray Spex,
Slick Rick,
The Divine Comedy,
Amazonics,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.