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 Brunei and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Amon Düül to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Smog,
Deadbeat,
The Leaves,
Television Personalities,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cameo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Robert Hood,
New York Dolls,
Dave Gahan,
The Slits,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pere Ubu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Thee Headcoats,
James White and The Blacks,
Sparks,
Sam Rivers,
Sight & Sound,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
David McCallum,
Agitation Free,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quantec,
Slave,
10cc,
The Fire Engines,
The Monochrome Set,
Gang Starr,
Drexciya,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Circle Jerks,
Shuggie Otis,
Mantronix,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dark Day,
Roger Hodgson,
June of 44,
Harry Pussy,
Letta Mbulu,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ken Boothe,
Sound Behaviour,
Crooked Eye,
Alphaville,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Soft Cell,
Flipper,
Roy Ayers,
Babytalk,
48th St. Collective,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
cv313,
Section 25,
Connie Case,
Nik Kershaw,
Tears for Fears,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Rakim,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.