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 Turkey and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Ten City to the grime 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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fluxion,
Flamin' Groovies,
Severed Heads,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
A Flock of Seagulls,
EPMD,
Slave,
Fugazi,
The Durutti Column,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ludus,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Moon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Soft Cell,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Cowsills,
Harry Pussy,
Susan Cadogan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Last Poets,
The Black Dice,
Soft Machine,
Sex Pistols,
Swell Maps,
Nico,
Jesper Dahlback,
Monolake,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Blues Magoos,
AZ,
The Smiths,
Sister Nancy,
Lee Hazlewood,
CMW,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Seeds,
June of 44,
John Lydon,
Lyres,
The Skatalites,
Soft Cell,
Don Cherry,
The Fire Engines,
Pet Shop Boys,
Delon & Dalcan,
Roxette,
The Litter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minny Pops,
Soul Sonic Force,
D'Angelo,
The Mojo Men,
The Smoke,
The Fall,
Chrome,
Angry Samoans,
Sun Ra,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.