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 Taiwan and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe 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 Marvin Gaye to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Japan,
a-ha,
Cameo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Godley & Creme,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eddi Front,
James White and The Blacks,
Bill Near,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Zero Boys,
Gabor Szabo,
Brick,
This Heat,
Kayak,
Ituana,
The Smoke,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Junior Murvin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nils Olav,
Soul II Soul,
Chris & Cosey,
Newcleus,
Lightning Bolt,
Slave,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rekid,
Delta 5,
Make Up,
David Bowie,
Fat Boys,
Basic Channel,
Morten Harket,
The Slits,
Monks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Swans,
Pole,
The Raincoats,
The Tremeloes,
Jandek,
A Certain Ratio,
The Pretty Things,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Connie Case,
Spandau Ballet,
Pylon,
Desert Stars,
Ten City,
the Normal,
Excepter,
Joey Negro,
Arthur Verocai,
The Slackers,
Sarah Menescal,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Pus,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.