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 Serbia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Drexciya to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Malaria!,
Boz Scaggs,
Pussy Galore,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marvin Gaye,
the Human League,
Byron Stingily,
Deakin,
The Detroit Cobras,
KRS-One,
Idris Muhammad,
Robert Hood,
B.T. Express,
Kas Product,
Barrington Levy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Smoke,
Magma,
Aural Exciters,
Simply Red,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Blues Magoos,
The Saints,
The Smiths,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gichy Dan,
Hasil Adkins,
Los Fastidios,
Nik Kershaw,
The Gladiators,
Matthew Bourne,
Althea and Donna,
Leonard Cohen,
Schoolly D,
Gregory Isaacs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fortunes,
Rites of Spring,
Max Romeo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobby Womack,
Eddi Front,
Minnie Riperton,
EPMD,
Nico,
The Martian,
Joe Smooth,
The Cure,
Television,
Index,
Joy Division,
Parry Music,
Organ,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kaleidoscope,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.