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 Rwanda and from Halifax.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet 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 Parry Music to the grime 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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Index,
DJ Sneak,
Rakim,
Symarip,
Scan 7,
KRS-One,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Monks,
Angry Samoans,
Brick,
Masters at Work,
Wally Richardson,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ultravox,
Bronski Beat,
H. Thieme,
Crime,
Peter and Kerry,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pulsallama,
the Soft Cell,
X-102,
Charles Mingus,
Barry Ungar,
Todd Rundgren,
D'Angelo,
Stereo Dub,
Pussy Galore,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Archie Shepp,
Popol Vuh,
Lakeside,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Buckinghams,
The Kinks,
MDC,
Joe Smooth,
Bush Tetras,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Amazonics,
Cameo,
Echospace,
Bob Dylan,
The Flesh Eaters,
New York Dolls,
Yazoo,
The Golliwogs,
Half Japanese,
Shoche,
The Velvet Underground,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
David McCallum,
Motorama,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cymande,
The Fuzztones,
Piero Umiliani,
The Red Krayola,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.