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 United States and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Quando Quango to the grunge 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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Association,
Reuben Wilson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bauhaus,
Audionom,
The Searchers,
Japan,
Soul II Soul,
K-Klass,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brass Construction,
Carl Craig,
Livin' Joy,
Absolute Body Control,
Fad Gadget,
Boogie Down Productions,
Surgeon,
Dennis Brown,
Johnny Clarke,
Section 25,
LL Cool J,
Mark Hollis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sound Behaviour,
The Modern Lovers,
R.M.O.,
Simply Red,
Barclay James Harvest,
A Certain Ratio,
John Foxx,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lightning Bolt,
Rapeman,
Fat Boys,
Smog,
Camberwell Now,
X-Ray Spex,
Sällskapet,
Dead Boys,
Flash Fearless,
Lou Christie,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ohio Players,
Essential Logic,
Model 500,
Moebius,
Marmalade,
Bob Dylan,
Stereo Dub,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yusef Lateef,
Pierre Henry,
Technova,
Ornette Coleman,
MDC,
Ossler,
The United States of America,
The Fire Engines,
Average White Band,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.