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 Cape Verde and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Morten Harket to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad 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?
X-Ray Spex,
The Fugs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Average White Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marmalade,
This Heat,
Steve Hackett,
The Residents,
Liliput,
Skarface,
The Gladiators,
Vainqueur,
Y Pants,
Fear,
Suburban Knight,
New Order,
Gichy Dan,
Thompson Twins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wally Richardson,
The Slits,
Faraquet,
Maleditus Sound,
Lyres,
Todd Rundgren,
The Martian,
Outsiders,
Pantytec,
Rufus Thomas,
Popol Vuh,
Parry Music,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crooked Eye,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultra Naté,
Shoche,
Hashim,
Bad Manners,
Black Flag,
Interpol,
Fluxion,
Heaven 17,
The Remains,
Chris Corsano,
Kas Product,
E-Dancer,
Barrington Levy,
Barry Ungar,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cybotron,
Kerri Chandler,
Con Funk Shun,
Todd Terry,
Darondo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eve St. Jones,
Angry Samoans,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Swans,
Ice-T,
Wasted Youth,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.