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 Austria and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 David Bowie 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 The Selecter to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Trojans. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
The Pop Group,
Leonard Cohen,
Eli Mardock,
Nick Fraelich,
Mad Mike,
Whodini,
Grey Daturas,
Johnny Clarke,
Groovy Waters,
The Smiths,
LL Cool J,
Sam Rivers,
The Walker Brothers,
Infiniti,
Harmonia,
Roy Ayers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Five Americans,
Bobby Womack,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Can,
Intrusion,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Divine Comedy,
Lalann,
Goldenarms,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Magma,
Scratch Acid,
Mars,
Tubeway Army,
The Velvet Underground,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Little Man,
Eve St. Jones,
Matthew Halsall,
The Last Poets,
The Searchers,
Darondo,
Wings,
Fear,
The Gladiators,
Brick,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Holt,
Dennis Brown,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
John Foxx,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Anakelly,
Zero Boys,
Bauhaus,
Soul II Soul,
Bill Near,
The Black Dice,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Zeros,
Alton Ellis,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.