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 Azerbaijan and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
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 808 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 Grandmaster Flash to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
The Sound,
Black Pus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marmalade,
Second Layer,
The Saints,
The Angels of Light,
Popol Vuh,
Hasil Adkins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Charles Mingus,
Television,
Bizarre Inc.,
K-Klass,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Robert Wyatt,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
The Dave Clark Five,
Freddie Wadling,
The Invisible,
The Cowsills,
Zapp,
Juan Atkins,
The Dirtbombs,
Country Teasers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Chris & Cosey,
Spandau Ballet,
The Blues Magoos,
Masters at Work,
Minutemen,
The Techniques,
These Immortal Souls,
Bauhaus,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bush Tetras,
Andrew Hill,
Ten City,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Silicon Teens,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alphaville,
Bronski Beat,
Lightning Bolt,
Todd Rundgren,
Mark Hollis,
DJ Style,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultra Naté,
Negative Approach,
Gregory Isaacs,
EPMD,
Roxy Music,
ABC,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.