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 Vanuatu and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ultra Naté to the grunge 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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Niagra,
Cheater Slicks,
Quadrant,
Rekid,
Joyce Sims,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Leaves,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Slick Rick,
Pulsallama,
Jeru the Damaja,
Janne Schatter,
Bootsy Collins,
The Barracudas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marmalade,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Visage,
Bauhaus,
The Cramps,
Blancmange,
Metal Thangz,
Interpol,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobby Womack,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
kango's stein massive,
Sam Rivers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bill Wells,
Idris Muhammad,
Zapp,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roxy Music,
Quando Quango,
Eric Copeland,
The Beau Brummels,
Swell Maps,
Grey Daturas,
Blossom Toes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
U.S. Maple,
Ronnie Foster,
Curtis Mayfield,
Guru Guru,
Johnny Clarke,
Model 500,
The Blackbyrds,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Harmonia,
Audionom,
Lou Reed,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Duran Duran,
Index,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Angry Samoans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Skaos,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.