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 Cambodia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Faust to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Massinfluence,
Little Man,
OOIOO,
Whodini,
Ohio Players,
Tres Demented,
The Techniques,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rapeman,
The Fuzztones,
CMW,
Dave Gahan,
Danielle Patucci,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mo-Dettes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eli Mardock,
F. McDonald,
Stiv Bators,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Grass Roots,
These Immortal Souls,
Brand Nubian,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
MDC,
Television,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Japan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rites of Spring,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jacob Miller,
Main Source,
Joe Finger,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nas,
Thee Headcoats,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brass Construction,
The Leaves,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sonic Youth,
The Move,
Scrapy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Delta 5,
Warsaw,
Gang Starr,
Cecil Taylor,
Mr. Review,
Black Sheep,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Searchers,
Suicide,
Babytalk,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ultravox,
Camouflage,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.