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 Korea North and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Holger Czukay 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 Tres Demented to the electroclash 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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Infiniti,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Barbara Tucker,
Shoche,
Siglo XX,
Nation of Ulysses,
Inner City,
Essential Logic,
Malaria!,
Delta 5,
Popol Vuh,
Pussy Galore,
Stiv Bators,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Sex Pistols,
Roger Hodgson,
Brick,
Easy Going,
Tubeway Army,
Aural Exciters,
Rosa Yemen,
Magma,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lightning Bolt,
The Techniques,
Mo-Dettes,
Magazine,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harry Pussy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Second Layer,
Shuggie Otis,
Danielle Patucci,
L. Decosne,
Jacob Miller,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eddi Front,
Fear,
Saccharine Trust,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hot Snakes,
Aloha Tigers,
Angry Samoans,
Youth Brigade,
The Residents,
The Motions,
The Pop Group,
Zapp,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Monks,
Sällskapet,
Cymande,
Intrusion,
Hasil Adkins,
Colin Newman,
Duran Duran,
Nik Kershaw,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.