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 Guinea and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator 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 Niagra to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
The Victims,
The Smiths,
Suicide,
Symarip,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Barracudas,
The Sound,
Angry Samoans,
Spoonie Gee,
Peter and Kerry,
Yusef Lateef,
Unrelated Segments,
Donny Hathaway,
Little Man,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
June Days,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Busters,
Idris Muhammad,
The Evens,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sexual Harrassment,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
ABC,
Black Pus,
Aswad,
Average White Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Los Fastidios,
Bobby Byrd,
Subhumans,
Flipper,
The Count Five,
Organ,
T.S.O.L.,
Moebius,
the Bar-Kays,
The Martian,
Brick,
Dead Boys,
Morten Harket,
Q and Not U,
Terry Callier,
Nas,
The Move,
Jerry's Kids,
Grey Daturas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Man Parrish,
Minnie Riperton,
DNA,
Television,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roxy Music,
Schoolly D,
Alice Coltrane,
Susan Cadogan,
Soft Machine,
Pantytec,
the Normal,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.