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 Kiribati and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
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 harpsichord 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 Gil Scott Heron to the techno 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Public Enemy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Intrusion,
The Trojans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Blossom Toes,
E-Dancer,
Black Pus,
MC5,
F. McDonald,
Fad Gadget,
Joy Division,
Monks,
Section 25,
Mark Hollis,
Stetsasonic,
Black Bananas,
Niagra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ralphi Rosario,
48th St. Collective,
Bobby Womack,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tim Buckley,
The Real Kids,
Isaac Hayes,
Grauzone,
Ronnie Foster,
Sonic Youth,
Alice Coltrane,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marmalade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Franke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Fire Engines,
Clear Light,
The Victims,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Barracudas,
Lindisfarne,
Television,
The Invisible,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Visage,
Thompson Twins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Moody Blues,
Masters at Work,
John Cale,
Average White Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Donald Byrd,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.