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 Montenegro and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Stiv Bators to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
T. Rex,
Camouflage,
Brass Construction,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mark Hollis,
Leonard Cohen,
The Litter,
Qualms,
Section 25,
Liliput,
Funkadelic,
Hasil Adkins,
Derrick May,
Grey Daturas,
Minor Threat,
Make Up,
Pet Shop Boys,
Scrapy,
The Dead C,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eurythmics,
Gang Starr,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wings,
Model 500,
Black Moon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Slits,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Maleditus Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Slave,
Sandy B,
Rites of Spring,
Carl Craig,
Althea and Donna,
Thee Headcoats,
Siglo XX,
The Alarm Clocks,
48th St. Collective,
The Walker Brothers,
Loose Ends,
Joyce Sims,
Alton Ellis,
The Trojans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Colin Newman,
Crooked Eye,
Essential Logic,
JFA,
Urselle,
Skriet,
Massinfluence,
Quadrant,
The Neon Judgement,
Mission of Burma,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crime,
Eric B and Rakim,
Agitation Free,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.