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 Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Slackers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nik Kershaw,
Newcleus,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kool Moe Dee,
R.M.O.,
K-Klass,
The Divine Comedy,
Goldenarms,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Charles Mingus,
Tim Buckley,
The Fire Engines,
the Germs,
Dave Gahan,
Isaac Hayes,
Moby Grape,
Arthur Verocai,
Sällskapet,
Byron Stingily,
Spandau Ballet,
Nils Olav,
Television,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Leonard Cohen,
Mark Hollis,
The Dead C,
Thee Headcoats,
Schoolly D,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eric Dolphy,
Rosa Yemen,
The Red Krayola,
Ronnie Foster,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers,
Gichy Dan,
The Fortunes,
Chris Corsano,
The Slackers,
Black Moon,
The Raincoats,
Slick Rick,
Au Pairs,
The Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Don Cherry,
Yellowson,
Jacques Brel,
Ludus,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Moleskins,
Siglo XX,
Gang Starr,
Altered Images,
Nirvana,
Scott Walker,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.