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 Dominica and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Aural Exciters to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Matthew Halsall,
Porter Ricks,
Youth Brigade,
Flash Fearless,
ABBA,
Bill Near,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Zeros,
Ken Boothe,
Mo-Dettes,
Al Stewart,
Mars,
Fear,
The Barracudas,
Scan 7,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang Green,
Lalann,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Andrew Hill,
Marine Girls,
Lungfish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
June Days,
Mission of Burma,
Oneida,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Wake,
Blossom Toes,
Max Romeo,
Stiv Bators,
Flamin' Groovies,
Stetsasonic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Simply Red,
Gabor Szabo,
Theoretical Girls,
Ice-T,
Pharoah Sanders,
Con Funk Shun,
Lightning Bolt,
Outsiders,
Spandau Ballet,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nik Kershaw,
Moby Grape,
Funkadelic,
Fad Gadget,
Kerrie Biddell,
Desert Stars,
Hoover,
Nils Olav,
Soft Cell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Harmonia,
Fat Boys,
Ten City,
Excepter,
Minutemen,
8 Eyed Spy,
Janne Schatter,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.