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 Chad and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba 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 Magma to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mark Hollis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Human League,
Joy Division,
8 Eyed Spy,
Reuben Wilson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Real Kids,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Golliwogs,
Gong,
Arab on Radar,
Niagra,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Swell Maps,
Depeche Mode,
Anthony Braxton,
Sunsets and Hearts,
U.S. Maple,
The Dead C,
The Martian,
Marc Almond,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fugazi,
Young Marble Giants,
Andrew Hill,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bang On A Can,
Newcleus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Pus,
Crime,
Sixth Finger,
Scion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ohio Players,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Busters,
Hashim,
Interpol,
Lightning Bolt,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mr. Review,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Faraquet,
Soul II Soul,
Eden Ahbez,
Circle Jerks,
The Techniques,
The Smoke,
Excepter,
Scientists,
The Doors,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Youth Brigade,
Fad Gadget,
Whodini,
The Sonics,
Maurizio,
OOIOO,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.