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 Armenia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rufus Thomas to the rap 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
MC5,
Byron Stingily,
Pussy Galore,
Joy Division,
Accadde A,
Traffic Nightmare,
Davy DMX,
Marc Almond,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nas,
F. McDonald,
Swans,
Blake Baxter,
Lightning Bolt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Josef K,
Charles Mingus,
Sun Ra,
Donny Hathaway,
Camouflage,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
DNA,
Siglo XX,
Magma,
Deakin,
Mission of Burma,
The Gap Band,
Maleditus Sound,
10cc,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Howard Jones,
The Techniques,
kango's stein massive,
Talk Talk,
Eurythmics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rapeman,
The Fall,
Brothers Johnson,
Jeff Lynne,
Moby Grape,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Piero Umiliani,
The Cramps,
Eli Mardock,
Eddi Front,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Real Kids,
Dark Day,
Cybotron,
Kaleidoscope,
Echospace,
Hardrive,
Joyce Sims,
The Angels of Light,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.