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 Swaziland and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet 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 ABC to the crunk 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Laurel Aitken,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Heaven 17,
LL Cool J,
Brass Construction,
Albert Ayler,
Ossler,
Suicide,
the Soft Cell,
Technova,
Scion,
The Cowsills,
Lungfish,
Pylon,
Carl Craig,
Intrusion,
Second Layer,
Joensuu 1685,
The Barracudas,
Barclay James Harvest,
Archie Shepp,
Nik Kershaw,
Scrapy,
Nirvana,
Terry Callier,
Soul II Soul,
Pole,
The Mummies,
Angry Samoans,
Kerri Chandler,
The Cramps,
Lou Christie,
MC5,
PIL,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Sherman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bobby Womack,
Marc Almond,
Suburban Knight,
Niagra,
Sex Pistols,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bronski Beat,
Sixth Finger,
This Heat,
Funky Four + One,
H. Thieme,
Blake Baxter,
The Star Department,
The Slits,
Stetsasonic,
Roxette,
Bad Manners,
Pagans,
kango's stein massive,
The Cure,
Grey Daturas,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.