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 Malta and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
UT,
The Toasters,
Thompson Twins,
Fela Kuti,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gang Green,
H. Thieme,
Nico,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ornette Coleman,
Livin' Joy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The American Breed,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Radiopuhelimet,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minnie Riperton,
These Immortal Souls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sun City Girls,
Banda Bassotti,
Bad Manners,
Fear,
L. Decosne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Delta 5,
Ponytail,
Iggy Pop,
Royal Trux,
Radiohead,
Shuggie Otis,
Index,
Chris & Cosey,
Kerrie Biddell,
Archie Shepp,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Move,
Monolake,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amazonics,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sandy B,
The Modern Lovers,
Fugazi,
Anakelly,
Organ,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Harry Pussy,
Prince Buster,
Harpers Bizarre,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Los Fastidios,
Barbara Tucker,
Unrelated Segments,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Trumans Water,
Porter Ricks,
MDC,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.