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 Colombia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Boogie Down Productions to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Magma,
the Normal,
Index,
Malaria!,
Rakim,
Tom Boy,
James White and The Blacks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Underground Resistance,
the Association,
Connie Case,
Archie Shepp,
Fatback Band,
Morten Harket,
Ultimate Spinach,
Monolake,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Funky Four + One,
The Searchers,
Los Fastidios,
Gabor Szabo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Circle Jerks,
Ossler,
Kayak,
Pulsallama,
Second Layer,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Raincoats,
Isaac Hayes,
Sparks,
Dave Gahan,
The Blackbyrds,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ituana,
Anakelly,
ABC,
F. McDonald,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eric Copeland,
Terry Callier,
Kaleidoscope,
Joe Smooth,
Tears for Fears,
Vladislav Delay,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Boredoms,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Moody Blues,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Oneida,
Average White Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Essential Logic,
Letta Mbulu,
Juan Atkins,
Livin' Joy,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.