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 Micronesia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 John Coltrane to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Radio Birdman,
La Düsseldorf,
Connie Case,
Rakim,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Make Up,
Spoonie Gee,
Loose Ends,
Lindisfarne,
The Techniques,
The Tremeloes,
Kurtis Blow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Gories,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lyres,
Glenn Branca,
Bill Wells,
Pulsallama,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Whodini,
Sun Ra,
The Durutti Column,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Das Ding,
Juan Atkins,
Susan Cadogan,
kango's stein massive,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Todd Terry,
Rufus Thomas,
New Order,
The Fortunes,
Average White Band,
Alison Limerick,
Young Marble Giants,
Chris & Cosey,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Von Mondo,
Symarip,
Amon Düül II,
Pole,
Warsaw,
The Modern Lovers,
the Bar-Kays,
Roy Ayers,
Skarface,
Morten Harket,
Severed Heads,
Harry Pussy,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
Silicon Teens,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bobby Byrd,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.