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 Indonesia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ 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 Aswad to the dance 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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Graham Central Station,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Doors,
FM Einheit,
Bronski Beat,
Average White Band,
Zero Boys,
The Seeds,
Brand Nubian,
Bob Dylan,
Supertramp,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Whodini,
Vainqueur,
Spoonie Gee,
Quando Quango,
The Martian,
Zapp,
A Certain Ratio,
Cal Tjader,
The Knickerbockers,
Tomorrow,
Essential Logic,
Circle Jerks,
Scientists,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Remains,
Severed Heads,
Flash Fearless,
ABC,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Absolute Body Control,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Flamin' Groovies,
Blake Baxter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Anakelly,
Altered Images,
The Dirtbombs,
Roxy Music,
Robert Görl,
Accadde A,
John Lydon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wire,
Man Parrish,
Big Daddy Kane,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drexciya,
CMW,
Prince Buster,
The Busters,
OOIOO,
Bootsy Collins,
Intrusion,
Mars,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sandy B,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.