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 Peru and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the dance 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Darondo,
Mission of Burma,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Little Man,
Cybotron,
Malaria!,
F. McDonald,
Todd Terry,
Vladislav Delay,
EPMD,
Joensuu 1685,
David Axelrod,
Ponytail,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nico,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Music Machine,
Country Teasers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Boz Scaggs,
Neil Young,
The Slackers,
Ronnie Foster,
Technova,
John Holt,
Suburban Knight,
Scrapy,
The Zeros,
Electric Prunes,
Mark Hollis,
Alice Coltrane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Faust,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Agitation Free,
Wally Richardson,
The Five Americans,
Crime,
The Golliwogs,
The Evens,
Deadbeat,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sun Ra,
Jesper Dahlback,
Spoonie Gee,
Pantytec,
Joe Finger,
Carl Craig,
Faraquet,
Black Flag,
Eurythmics,
Organ,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Alton Ellis,
Man Parrish,
Visage,
Second Layer,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.