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 Belarus and from London.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Index to the funk 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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Thee Headcoats,
Bluetip,
Vladislav Delay,
8 Eyed Spy,
Saccharine Trust,
Main Source,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Skatalites,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Selecter,
Letta Mbulu,
L. Decosne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
ABBA,
Tomorrow,
Black Bananas,
Hardrive,
Minny Pops,
Peter & Gordon,
Cal Tjader,
The Stooges,
Connie Case,
Scan 7,
Junior Murvin,
Charles Mingus,
Scion,
China Crisis,
Minor Threat,
Isaac Hayes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Soft Cell,
Ohio Players,
Suburban Knight,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Skaos,
Spoonie Gee,
UT,
Cheater Slicks,
H. Thieme,
Sonny Sharrock,
Subhumans,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Golliwogs,
The Real Kids,
The Sonics,
Harpers Bizarre,
DNA,
Marine Girls,
The Techniques,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dark Day,
Judy Mowatt,
Jacques Brel,
Index,
Yazoo,
Average White Band,
Heaven 17,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.