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 Tonga and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin 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 Ludus to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Pole,
Nas,
EPMD,
The Leaves,
The Shadows of Knight,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fortunes,
Jacques Brel,
Sällskapet,
John Holt,
Camouflage,
Lalo Schifrin,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Searchers,
Thee Headcoats,
Max Romeo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Standells,
Swans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Angry Samoans,
Man Parrish,
The Mojo Men,
Inner City,
Matthew Bourne,
Sixth Finger,
The Star Department,
The Offenders,
the Slits,
Bobby Sherman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
This Heat,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Man Eating Sloth,
Barry Ungar,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Royal Trux,
Jeff Mills,
Mission of Burma,
Scratch Acid,
Vainqueur,
The Dave Clark Five,
Radiopuhelimet,
Depeche Mode,
Fatback Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Niagra,
Black Bananas,
Minnie Riperton,
Mark Hollis,
Harry Pussy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Big Daddy Kane,
Brand Nubian,
Aswad,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Alton Ellis,
In Retrospect,
Minutemen,
The Five Americans,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.