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 Zambia and from Glasgow.
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 Beijing and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 The Selecter to the crunk 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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
KRS-One,
Ralphi Rosario,
Arab on Radar,
Thee Headcoats,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Saccharine Trust,
Mars,
Stiv Bators,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Franke,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Frankie Knuckles,
Basic Channel,
Cameo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Man Parrish,
Lower 48,
Tim Buckley,
Cecil Taylor,
H. Thieme,
Cluster,
FM Einheit,
Ornette Coleman,
The Evens,
the Swans,
Gong,
The Moody Blues,
Shuggie Otis,
Half Japanese,
Matthew Halsall,
The Mojo Men,
Joe Finger,
Harmonia,
The Martian,
Graham Central Station,
Harpers Bizarre,
Magazine,
Erasure,
T. Rex,
Dennis Brown,
Lou Reed,
Bill Wells,
Kayak,
Gang Gang Dance,
Colin Newman,
Jacques Brel,
The Buckinghams,
Marmalade,
Tres Demented,
Quando Quango,
U.S. Maple,
LL Cool J,
The Real Kids,
The Golliwogs,
Zero Boys,
Von Mondo,
The Mummies,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.