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 Belgium and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Motions to the grunge 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
The Human League,
Brass Construction,
Ken Boothe,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Matthew Halsall,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Shadows of Knight,
Johnny Clarke,
Talk Talk,
Slick Rick,
Lou Christie,
Mad Mike,
The Fuzztones,
Crispy Ambulance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scan 7,
Marcia Griffiths,
Donald Byrd,
Bluetip,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Thee Headcoats,
Joe Smooth,
Harmonia,
Babytalk,
Pulsallama,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bootsy Collins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kas Product,
Max Romeo,
Quantec,
Dennis Brown,
The Neon Judgement,
Alison Limerick,
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Spoonie Gee,
Tomorrow,
Unrelated Segments,
Y Pants,
The Birthday Party,
Nik Kershaw,
Davy DMX,
Stetsasonic,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nico,
Oneida,
Motorama,
The Invisible,
Second Layer,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cure,
Lightning Bolt,
Echospace,
Eve St. Jones,
Bill Near,
The Mojo Men,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Isaac Hayes,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.