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 Saudi Arabia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Radio Birdman to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
LL Cool J,
Rotary Connection,
Reagan Youth,
Parry Music,
Intrusion,
FM Einheit,
Bluetip,
Radio Birdman,
Goldenarms,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cymande,
The Red Krayola,
The Black Dice,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Thompson Twins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Electric Prunes,
48th St. Collective,
Pantytec,
Eli Mardock,
Sarah Menescal,
Byron Stingily,
Simply Red,
Subhumans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Niagra,
Patti Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pierre Henry,
DJ Sneak,
The Cramps,
Scientists,
8 Eyed Spy,
UT,
Wolf Eyes,
The Monks,
The Sound,
Roxette,
Fat Boys,
Robert Wyatt,
The Smoke,
Crash Course in Science,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sonic Youth,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Association,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eric Copeland,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Germs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Dead C,
Shoche,
Morten Harket,
Ice-T,
Technova,
Slave,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.