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 Belize and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer 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 Reuben Wilson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Minor Threat,
KRS-One,
These Immortal Souls,
Camouflage,
Jerry's Kids,
Animal Collective,
Rites of Spring,
Ice-T,
The Red Krayola,
Nik Kershaw,
Vainqueur,
Masters at Work,
The Doobie Brothers,
Matthew Bourne,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott Heron,
Drexciya,
Loose Ends,
Dawn Penn,
Amon Düül,
Angry Samoans,
PIL,
Vladislav Delay,
Aswad,
CMW,
Pierre Henry,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Blackbyrds,
Zapp,
Suicide,
Robert Görl,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bob Dylan,
The Skatalites,
Banda Bassotti,
Monolake,
Carl Craig,
The Moody Blues,
Soft Machine,
Boz Scaggs,
The Martian,
The Gun Club,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jawbox,
L. Decosne,
Lungfish,
Inner City,
Electric Prunes,
The Associates,
Wasted Youth,
Ituana,
David Bowie,
Make Up,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joey Negro,
Ken Boothe,
Gabor Szabo,
Metal Thangz,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bad Manners,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.