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 Egypt and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Banda Bassotti,
Lalann,
The Doors,
the Sonics,
Cluster,
Swell Maps,
Amazonics,
Susan Cadogan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Heaven 17,
June of 44,
The Evens,
The J.B.'s,
John Lydon,
Lungfish,
Anakelly,
World's Most,
Brick,
Malaria!,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jeff Lynne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Germs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Talk Talk,
Pere Ubu,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gang of Four,
Girls At Our Best!,
JFA,
Quantec,
Dave Gahan,
Angry Samoans,
Bootsy Collins,
Minny Pops,
The Leaves,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minor Threat,
ABBA,
Negative Approach,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Barracudas,
The Motions,
Shoche,
The Golliwogs,
Tom Boy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Soul II Soul,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bronski Beat,
The Modern Lovers,
Supertramp,
Boz Scaggs,
The Martian,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ralphi Rosario,
Intrusion,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
A Certain Ratio,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.