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 Mauritania and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Neu!. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rites of Spring,
Zero Boys,
Shuggie Otis,
Monks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Doobie Brothers,
Minor Threat,
Sandy B,
Mr. Review,
Colin Newman,
The Fortunes,
Bobby Sherman,
MDC,
Supertramp,
The Invisible,
Crispian St. Peters,
La Düsseldorf,
B.T. Express,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fear,
Adolescents,
Quando Quango,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mad Mike,
The Monks,
Arab on Radar,
Stiv Bators,
The Dirtbombs,
Deepchord,
The Monochrome Set,
Fela Kuti,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Talk Talk,
KRS-One,
Scratch Acid,
David Bowie,
The Grass Roots,
The Velvet Underground,
Soft Cell,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minutemen,
The Doors,
The Last Poets,
10cc,
Jawbox,
Metal Thangz,
The Residents,
The Cure,
Davy DMX,
F. McDonald,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Skatalites,
Kenny Larkin,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bang On A Can,
Electric Light Orchestra,
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.