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 Switzerland and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Cybotron to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
The Dead C,
the Association,
Zapp,
Jesper Dahlback,
Faust,
The Monochrome Set,
Gong,
Von Mondo,
Gang Starr,
Ten City,
Los Fastidios,
Cal Tjader,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Piero Umiliani,
Quantec,
Jeff Lynne,
Patti Smith,
E-Dancer,
Maurizio,
The Mummies,
The Gap Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Pop Group,
Henry Cow,
Pantytec,
The Mojo Men,
Icehouse,
Accadde A,
June of 44,
Negative Approach,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Average White Band,
Siglo XX,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Outsiders,
Moebius,
Scratch Acid,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Pretty Things,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Litter,
Goldenarms,
Radiopuhelimet,
Simply Red,
Intrusion,
The Searchers,
Rapeman,
Rufus Thomas,
The Star Department,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sparks,
Con Funk Shun,
CMW,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Faraquet,
Nik Kershaw,
Nils Olav,
The Blackbyrds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.