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 Zimbabwe and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Glambeats Corp. to the electroclash 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Amazonics,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Inner City,
Symarip,
The United States of America,
The Fall,
Reagan Youth,
Nico,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ten City,
Flamin' Groovies,
Girls At Our Best!,
Los Fastidios,
Schoolly D,
The Saints,
Terry Callier,
Cecil Taylor,
L. Decosne,
Juan Atkins,
Colin Newman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pylon,
Kerrie Biddell,
E-Dancer,
Cluster,
Kurtis Blow,
Livin' Joy,
Anthony Braxton,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Cure,
Average White Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Junior Murvin,
Kerri Chandler,
Tom Boy,
Mr. Review,
Cymande,
DJ Sneak,
Subhumans,
Bobby Byrd,
Pere Ubu,
Fat Boys,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Todd Rundgren,
Minny Pops,
Buzzcocks,
New York Dolls,
Oneida,
Gang Starr,
Brick,
The Residents,
Monolake,
The Dave Clark Five,
Can,
Tomorrow,
The Detroit Cobras,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.