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 India and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Robert Palmer 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 Niagra to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
The Alarm Clocks,
Man Parrish,
Q and Not U,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Sheep,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dennis Brown,
Sound Behaviour,
Lalo Schifrin,
Camberwell Now,
Eden Ahbez,
Nas,
Gang of Four,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funky Four + One,
Oblivians,
Fat Boys,
Symarip,
Pharoah Sanders,
Funkadelic,
New York Dolls,
Cluster,
Junior Murvin,
Tubeway Army,
The Associates,
The Mummies,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Human League,
Stereo Dub,
Public Enemy,
Lower 48,
Infiniti,
Fela Kuti,
Pierre Henry,
The Five Americans,
The Sonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Curtis Mayfield,
Girls At Our Best!,
Agent Orange,
Bill Wells,
Urselle,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tommy Roe,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bauhaus,
Derrick May,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mars,
Ken Boothe,
Average White Band,
Warsaw,
Gang Starr,
Jeff Lynne,
The Fortunes,
The Gories,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.