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 Guinea and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro 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 Ultravox to the crunk 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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Grauzone,
Throbbing Gristle,
Byron Stingily,
Brass Construction,
June of 44,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bronski Beat,
Sex Pistols,
Vladislav Delay,
Crash Course in Science,
Arab on Radar,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Minutemen,
Average White Band,
Cymande,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pussy Galore,
The Misunderstood,
Fat Boys,
Liliput,
Todd Terry,
Godley & Creme,
Sonic Youth,
The Busters,
New York Dolls,
Motorama,
ABBA,
The Buckinghams,
The Dave Clark Five,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
8 Eyed Spy,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tom Boy,
Bluetip,
Rapeman,
Q and Not U,
Newcleus,
The Kinks,
The Leaves,
The Cowsills,
Talk Talk,
Black Flag,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deadbeat,
Black Moon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Swell Maps,
Monks,
Jandek,
R.M.O.,
Organ,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Invisible,
Jeff Mills,
Scion,
Country Teasers,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.