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 Equatorial Guinea and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 rhodes 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 Alison Limerick to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
The Stooges,
The Moleskins,
Ronnie Foster,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Searchers,
The Fortunes,
Lyres,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dark Day,
cv313,
Wire,
Black Pus,
Livin' Joy,
Suicide,
The Index,
Symarip,
Zapp,
Fat Boys,
Nas,
The Monks,
The Fire Engines,
Marmalade,
Roxy Music,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sister Nancy,
Moby Grape,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Names,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
10cc,
The Smoke,
Deadbeat,
48th St. Collective,
Eli Mardock,
Duran Duran,
Shuggie Otis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Judy Mowatt,
Drive Like Jehu,
Outsiders,
Andrew Hill,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crispian St. Peters,
Groovy Waters,
Barbara Tucker,
Funky Four + One,
Archie Shepp,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
X-101,
Marc Almond,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
E-Dancer,
Ice-T,
The Slackers,
Pantaleimon,
Trumans Water,
Lightning Bolt,
Intrusion,
Fear,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.