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 Luxembourg and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Babytalk to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
The Cowsills,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eli Mardock,
Terry Callier,
Masters at Work,
Iggy Pop,
Nik Kershaw,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crooked Eye,
Gang Starr,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Altered Images,
Lalo Schifrin,
Circle Jerks,
Hoover,
Ponytail,
Morten Harket,
Amon Düül II,
Blossom Toes,
Colin Newman,
Joy Division,
Audionom,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Au Pairs,
Babytalk,
The Tremeloes,
Grauzone,
Alphaville,
Zero Boys,
Tomorrow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Malaria!,
The Real Kids,
Stereo Dub,
the Swans,
Neu!,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Radio Birdman,
Scientists,
Quadrant,
Reagan Youth,
Silicon Teens,
Joe Smooth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lalann,
Alison Limerick,
Whodini,
Bootsy Collins,
The Blues Magoos,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pulsallama,
Donny Hathaway,
Aswad,
Dawn Penn,
Bad Manners,
Gang Green,
Idris Muhammad,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gastr Del Sol,
48th St. Collective,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.