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 Kuwait and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 David Bowie 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 Smog to the grime 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Gang of Four,
The Moody Blues,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Foxx,
EPMD,
The Searchers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Chrome,
Hardrive,
Quantec,
Rakim,
The Blackbyrds,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Unrelated Segments,
Peter and Kerry,
The Names,
The Monochrome Set,
Black Sheep,
Hashim,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Toasters,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Dirtbombs,
Deadbeat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Little Man,
Altered Images,
Fluxion,
Severed Heads,
Dead Boys,
Franke,
Joey Negro,
Susan Cadogan,
Cheater Slicks,
Fatback Band,
Oneida,
Radio Birdman,
Sound Behaviour,
Parry Music,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Smiths,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wolf Eyes,
Moss Icon,
The Dead C,
Second Layer,
In Retrospect,
Cluster,
Wire,
Lindisfarne,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Model 500,
The Pretty Things,
Wally Richardson,
Arab on Radar,
Eurythmics,
The Music Machine,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.