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 Brazil and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator 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 Schoolly D to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Junior Murvin,
The Dave Clark Five,
Joyce Sims,
The Fuzztones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soulsonic Force,
The Mojo Men,
Shuggie Otis,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Last Poets,
Outsiders,
New Age Steppers,
Howard Jones,
Kayak,
Thee Headcoats,
ABC,
Magazine,
Average White Band,
Grauzone,
Eve St. Jones,
Interpol,
Eddi Front,
Masters at Work,
Y Pants,
The Beau Brummels,
David Axelrod,
Yaz,
Pylon,
Sun Ra,
The Birthday Party,
Clear Light,
China Crisis,
Gang Green,
Agitation Free,
Isaac Hayes,
The Young Rascals,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scott Walker,
Quantec,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scion,
Amazonics,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Yellowson,
Darondo,
The Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Monks,
E-Dancer,
Gang Starr,
Hashim,
X-Ray Spex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Animal Collective,
Eden Ahbez,
Sister Nancy,
Young Marble Giants,
Dual Sessions,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Loose Ends,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pussy Galore,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.