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 France and from Tehran.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Donald Fagen 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 A Certain Ratio to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Wolf Eyes,
Icehouse,
The Slits,
Monolake,
The Moleskins,
Q65,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ituana,
Warsaw,
Brand Nubian,
Cluster,
Pantytec,
Lee Hazlewood,
Aaron Thompson,
Harry Pussy,
FM Einheit,
Derrick Morgan,
New Age Steppers,
The Martian,
Grey Daturas,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Steve Hackett,
Lyres,
Animal Collective,
The Dead C,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Scrapy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Qualms,
Fat Boys,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Cale,
Guru Guru,
Black Pus,
the Bar-Kays,
The Angels of Light,
Fad Gadget,
The Smiths,
Brothers Johnson,
Slave,
Nation of Ulysses,
Index,
PIL,
Sun City Girls,
Organ,
Bizarre Inc.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rites of Spring,
James White and The Blacks,
Heaven 17,
The Grass Roots,
Darondo,
The Cowsills,
D'Angelo,
Mr. Review,
The Young Rascals,
Angry Samoans,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.