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 Mexico and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 rhodes 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 Ituana to the grime 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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Q65,
Eurythmics,
The Move,
China Crisis,
Pantaleimon,
Byron Stingily,
Funky Four + One,
The Sonics,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Five Americans,
Henry Cow,
Radiopuhelimet,
Unwound,
Blossom Toes,
Skaos,
48th St. Collective,
T. Rex,
The Slits,
Nas,
Ken Boothe,
Charles Mingus,
Ornette Coleman,
X-101,
Yellowson,
The Index,
Flash Fearless,
a-ha,
Flipper,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Average White Band,
cv313,
Main Source,
Ultimate Spinach,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jeff Lynne,
La Düsseldorf,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Skatalites,
The Angels of Light,
Brass Construction,
B.T. Express,
Kayak,
Dawn Penn,
Lalo Schifrin,
Icehouse,
Soul II Soul,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hashim,
Amon Düül II,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lindisfarne,
Cymande,
Visage,
Jerry's Kids,
Sandy B,
Eric Dolphy,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.