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 Moldova and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Dark Day to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang of Four,
Nik Kershaw,
Model 500,
The Monochrome Set,
X-Ray Spex,
Basic Channel,
Icehouse,
Ornette Coleman,
Camberwell Now,
The Names,
Soul II Soul,
Alice Coltrane,
Man Parrish,
Crispian St. Peters,
In Retrospect,
The Cure,
Albert Ayler,
The Cowsills,
Harpers Bizarre,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
F. McDonald,
Tubeway Army,
Drive Like Jehu,
Harmonia,
The Sound,
The Monks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Darondo,
Excepter,
David Bowie,
Rufus Thomas,
Jimmy McGriff,
London Community Gospel Choir,
X-102,
Gichy Dan,
the Association,
Audionom,
Spandau Ballet,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Slits,
Sällskapet,
Harry Pussy,
Yusef Lateef,
Bronski Beat,
EPMD,
Barry Ungar,
The United States of America,
The Slackers,
Roxy Music,
Little Man,
Matthew Bourne,
The Motions,
Kool Moe Dee,
Procol Harum,
Ponytail,
Easy Going,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.