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 United States and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Michael McDonald 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 Roger Hodgson to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Johnny Osbourne,
Severed Heads,
The Moleskins,
The Smiths,
The Offenders,
Public Enemy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Flamin' Groovies,
New York Dolls,
10cc,
Yellowson,
Amon Düül II,
Talk Talk,
Bluetip,
Visage,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Spandau Ballet,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Scott Walker,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Quando Quango,
Gang Gang Dance,
Soft Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Misunderstood,
CMW,
Supertramp,
Theoretical Girls,
Faust,
Minutemen,
Jeru the Damaja,
Flash Fearless,
Suicide,
Isaac Hayes,
Jacob Miller,
The Human League,
The Angels of Light,
48th St. Collective,
David Bowie,
Index,
Althea and Donna,
Chrome,
Lyres,
Zero Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
The Neon Judgement,
Ornette Coleman,
Fluxion,
La Düsseldorf,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Maurizio,
Mars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Selecter,
The Pretty Things,
The Sonics,
New Order,
The Cowsills,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.