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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Cairo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Holger Czukay 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 Ohio Players to the crunk 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Al Stewart,
Funkadelic,
Skaos,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ludus,
Mark Hollis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Heaven 17,
The Buckinghams,
Bad Manners,
Panda Bear,
The Trojans,
Magma,
Robert Hood,
Mr. Review,
Harry Pussy,
Jacques Brel,
Monolake,
Soulsonic Force,
The Stooges,
Warren Ellis,
Dual Sessions,
The Happenings,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
MDC,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Vainqueur,
Average White Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fela Kuti,
David McCallum,
Sun Ra,
John Foxx,
Chrome,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Derrick May,
Rotary Connection,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ornette Coleman,
The Real Kids,
Sexual Harrassment,
Swell Maps,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
KRS-One,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Fuzztones,
The Selecter,
The Index,
Black Sheep,
Suicide,
John Lydon,
Minny Pops,
Darondo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.