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 Kyrgyzstan and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 clarinet 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 8 Eyed Spy to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Andrew Hill,
The Smoke,
Soulsonic Force,
Barclay James Harvest,
EPMD,
Gong,
Mandrill,
The Divine Comedy,
D'Angelo,
The Wake,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Gun Club,
The Fortunes,
Sandy B,
Swell Maps,
Fat Boys,
The Mojo Men,
Kayak,
Royal Trux,
AZ,
The Misunderstood,
Technova,
Fad Gadget,
Derrick May,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Monks,
Deadbeat,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Massinfluence,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joe Smooth,
Ultravox,
Amon Düül,
Model 500,
The Gap Band,
The Cowsills,
Althea and Donna,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nas,
Michelle Simonal,
Moby Grape,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Sherman,
Dave Gahan,
Zapp,
Bobby Byrd,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
MC5,
Trumans Water,
The Tremeloes,
Metal Thangz,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roy Ayers,
Joey Negro,
Oblivians,
Fluxion,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.