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 Guatemala and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 The Grass Roots to the crunk 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pulsallama,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mojo Men,
Angry Samoans,
The Slackers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Star Department,
Fela Kuti,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Starr,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Electric Prunes,
The Velvet Underground,
Khruangbin,
Maleditus Sound,
Pantytec,
Wasted Youth,
Ponytail,
Kurtis Blow,
The Vogues,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Monolake,
Marc Almond,
Blancmange,
Chris Corsano,
John Holt,
Bush Tetras,
Charles Mingus,
Connie Case,
Todd Rundgren,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ten City,
Wings,
Cybotron,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marvin Gaye,
Tropical Tobacco,
Robert Hood,
Duran Duran,
The Toasters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Flamin' Groovies,
Derrick May,
Oneida,
Kaleidoscope,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Associates,
Aaron Thompson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Shadows of Knight,
K-Klass,
Adolescents,
Quando Quango,
Sällskapet,
Fatback Band,
David Axelrod,
Funky Four + One,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.