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 Chile and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Heaven 17 to the rock 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
Das Ding,
Ralphi Rosario,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Morten Harket,
Sex Pistols,
Amon Düül II,
Girls At Our Best!,
MC5,
Soulsonic Force,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun Ra,
Von Mondo,
Rufus Thomas,
Hardrive,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Associates,
Bill Near,
Index,
Suburban Knight,
Charles Mingus,
The Evens,
Bobby Byrd,
E-Dancer,
Ken Boothe,
Ponytail,
Cybotron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Idris Muhammad,
Rites of Spring,
The Slackers,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Smoke,
a-ha,
ABBA,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Qualms,
Chrome,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Joensuu 1685,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kurtis Blow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Don Cherry,
Gang Green,
Black Moon,
Brand Nubian,
Fear,
Bang On A Can,
The Mojo Men,
Newcleus,
Arab on Radar,
Peter & Gordon,
Youth Brigade,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sparks,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.