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 Marshall Islands and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Nile Rodgers 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 The Slackers 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Nirvana,
Suburban Knight,
Stiv Bators,
June Days,
Rufus Thomas,
The Human League,
Cal Tjader,
Juan Atkins,
Deakin,
a-ha,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nick Fraelich,
the Human League,
Thee Headcoats,
MDC,
The Happenings,
Gang Gang Dance,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pantaleimon,
Gong,
ABC,
Robert Görl,
John Lydon,
Lalann,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Sherman,
Main Source,
Babytalk,
The Dead C,
Tom Boy,
Icehouse,
Royal Trux,
Vainqueur,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Letta Mbulu,
Leonard Cohen,
Quando Quango,
Adolescents,
Wally Richardson,
FM Einheit,
Fifty Foot Hose,
New York Dolls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Faust,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Howard Jones,
Angry Samoans,
These Immortal Souls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Todd Terry,
48th St. Collective,
Bill Near,
Hardrive,
The Raincoats,
PIL,
Shuggie Otis,
Sparks,
Dennis Brown,
Stetsasonic,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.