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 Kazakhstan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 güiro 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Oneida,
Slick Rick,
Magazine,
The Cowsills,
The Buckinghams,
Maleditus Sound,
The Moleskins,
Radio Birdman,
Leonard Cohen,
Judy Mowatt,
Easy Going,
David McCallum,
Sister Nancy,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Human League,
The New Christs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Colin Newman,
Eric Copeland,
Sixth Finger,
Crispy Ambulance,
Das Ding,
The Alarm Clocks,
Josef K,
Stereo Dub,
Rakim,
Supertramp,
Flipper,
Man Parrish,
Soft Machine,
Tommy Roe,
Second Layer,
Chris Corsano,
Sound Behaviour,
Masters at Work,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sam Rivers,
the Soft Cell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Animal Collective,
Index,
Toni Rubio,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Spandau Ballet,
Kayak,
Buzzcocks,
Dark Day,
Talk Talk,
The Litter,
Bauhaus,
Skarface,
Johnny Clarke,
Joey Negro,
Boredoms,
Donald Byrd,
The Motions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Icehouse,
Kerrie Biddell,
Harry Pussy,
Pulsallama,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.