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 Gambia and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Duran Duran to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Ten City,
Rapeman,
Cecil Taylor,
Eurythmics,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Dave Gahan,
Duran Duran,
Jacques Brel,
Gil Scott Heron,
MDC,
The Five Americans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Warsaw,
the Germs,
Spandau Ballet,
La Düsseldorf,
Nils Olav,
Lightning Bolt,
Porter Ricks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tears for Fears,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cheater Slicks,
Qualms,
Radiopuhelimet,
Goldenarms,
Barrington Levy,
Soft Cell,
Amon Düül,
Stetsasonic,
Robert Hood,
Joensuu 1685,
Skriet,
John Lydon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Amon Düül II,
Ultra Naté,
Susan Cadogan,
Technova,
The United States of America,
Reagan Youth,
Newcleus,
Faust,
Bobby Byrd,
The Saints,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Easy Going,
The Move,
John Coltrane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Pop Group,
Alison Limerick,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Wake,
Isaac Hayes,
Rod Modell,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.