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 Mexico City.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Swell Maps to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Aloha Tigers,
Shoche,
Organ,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Surgeon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pussy Galore,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Popol Vuh,
Circle Jerks,
The Electric Prunes,
Bluetip,
ABBA,
The Victims,
Saccharine Trust,
Eric Dolphy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Derrick May,
Amon Düül,
The Slackers,
Erasure,
The Buckinghams,
Das Ding,
Joensuu 1685,
Blancmange,
Symarip,
Q and Not U,
David Axelrod,
Scott Walker,
Depeche Mode,
Heaven 17,
Can,
The Martian,
The Residents,
Ornette Coleman,
the Bar-Kays,
Dave Gahan,
Rakim,
Junior Murvin,
Tim Buckley,
The Zeros,
Young Marble Giants,
the Swans,
Tom Boy,
Monks,
cv313,
Barrington Levy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Crime,
Deadbeat,
Rapeman,
The Moleskins,
Drexciya,
Arthur Verocai,
Spandau Ballet,
Scrapy,
Freddie Wadling,
Nas,
The Last Poets,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.