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 Cambodia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Bar-Kays,
cv313,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Angels of Light,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wings,
DJ Style,
The Birthday Party,
Aswad,
Johnny Clarke,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Slits,
Blake Baxter,
Goldenarms,
The Cramps,
David Bowie,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Thompson Twins,
Ultra Naté,
Average White Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Anthony Braxton,
Outsiders,
Vladislav Delay,
Eurythmics,
Cluster,
Bluetip,
Mo-Dettes,
Kerri Chandler,
Maleditus Sound,
OOIOO,
Bill Near,
Section 25,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marmalade,
Scientists,
Joey Negro,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deepchord,
Lungfish,
Black Sheep,
Inner City,
John Coltrane,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Loose Ends,
The Gun Club,
Sarah Menescal,
Pylon,
Ludus,
Desert Stars,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Reuben Wilson,
Quadrant,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Zeros,
Nik Kershaw,
Make Up,
the Sonics,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Mandrill,
Sound Behaviour,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.