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 Antigua and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Johnny Clarke to the grime 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Public Enemy,
China Crisis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Reed,
The Leaves,
the Swans,
the Human League,
Steve Hackett,
Model 500,
The Vogues,
Tommy Roe,
MDC,
Michelle Simonal,
Quadrant,
JFA,
The Red Krayola,
The Names,
Skriet,
ABC,
Pere Ubu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Magma,
The Fall,
Oneida,
Glambeats Corp.,
Television Personalities,
Panda Bear,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Eve St. Jones,
Bobby Womack,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bauhaus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Circle Jerks,
Soul II Soul,
Todd Rundgren,
E-Dancer,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Christie,
The Walker Brothers,
Livin' Joy,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Litter,
Lucky Dragons,
Eddi Front,
Sixth Finger,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gap Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Gun Club,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mo-Dettes,
Vladislav Delay,
La Düsseldorf,
Stereo Dub,
The Modern Lovers,
Dark Day,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Newcleus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.