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 Singapore and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the punk 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Index,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Andrew Hill,
Byron Stingily,
Khruangbin,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jawbox,
China Crisis,
New Age Steppers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Associates,
Chris & Cosey,
Roxette,
Rakim,
Scott Walker,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fad Gadget,
The Doors,
Clear Light,
Aural Exciters,
Stetsasonic,
CMW,
Man Parrish,
Minnie Riperton,
Glambeats Corp.,
Can,
Altered Images,
Godley & Creme,
Connie Case,
Dorothy Ashby,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tears for Fears,
Crash Course in Science,
Peter & Gordon,
Mo-Dettes,
The Durutti Column,
Minny Pops,
Minutemen,
Lee Hazlewood,
Archie Shepp,
Alison Limerick,
Wire,
New York Dolls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
X-101,
The Mojo Men,
Letta Mbulu,
Marcia Griffiths,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sugar Minott,
Eric B and Rakim,
Make Up,
The Sound,
Y Pants,
Isaac Hayes,
Groovy Waters,
Robert Wyatt,
Curtis Mayfield,
Donald Byrd,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.