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 Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wake to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Minny Pops,
Drexciya,
Godley & Creme,
Moss Icon,
John Coltrane,
Loose Ends,
Swans,
Cheater Slicks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yazoo,
Tears for Fears,
David McCallum,
Joyce Sims,
K-Klass,
Janne Schatter,
Colin Newman,
Roxy Music,
Eve St. Jones,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Electric Prunes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
New York Dolls,
Lucky Dragons,
Kerrie Biddell,
Man Parrish,
Oblivians,
Qualms,
Magazine,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Flag,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Moody Blues,
The Sound,
Pantytec,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Buckinghams,
Quando Quango,
Lindisfarne,
Royal Trux,
Joensuu 1685,
Little Man,
Nas,
Bluetip,
Toni Rubio,
The Move,
Aswad,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Quantec,
Bauhaus,
The Trojans,
Fad Gadget,
Archie Shepp,
DNA,
Agent Orange,
Brothers Johnson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rosa Yemen,
Jacques Brel,
Thee Headcoats,
Vainqueur,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.