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 Solomon Islands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Agitation Free to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Cybotron,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dead C,
Scientists,
The Misunderstood,
The Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
Ice-T,
Outsiders,
Minor Threat,
Dead Boys,
Symarip,
Frankie Knuckles,
Janne Schatter,
Silicon Teens,
Bad Manners,
Slave,
New Order,
Duran Duran,
Charles Mingus,
K-Klass,
Davy DMX,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Techniques,
EPMD,
Intrusion,
Yusef Lateef,
Barrington Levy,
The Offenders,
Ossler,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tres Demented,
Sun Ra,
Vladislav Delay,
Pole,
Make Up,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Standells,
The Monochrome Set,
Ohio Players,
Gang of Four,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joe Smooth,
Sparks,
Brothers Johnson,
Sister Nancy,
The Black Dice,
Camouflage,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Yaz,
Joensuu 1685,
Country Teasers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Seeds,
Soul II Soul,
E-Dancer,
The Raincoats,
Newcleus,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.