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 Costa Rica and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fluxion to the disco 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
John Coltrane,
FM Einheit,
Sly & The Family Stone,
New York Dolls,
Carl Craig,
Parry Music,
Prince Buster,
The J.B.'s,
DNA,
Aaron Thompson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Real Kids,
ABBA,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sun City Girls,
Boz Scaggs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Smiths,
James White and The Blacks,
The Last Poets,
Liliput,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Standells,
The Star Department,
Bluetip,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Danielle Patucci,
Soul Sonic Force,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mark Hollis,
The Knickerbockers,
Steve Hackett,
The Selecter,
The Angels of Light,
Desert Stars,
Sugar Minott,
This Heat,
The Monks,
UT,
Bauhaus,
Jimmy McGriff,
Guru Guru,
Gil Scott Heron,
Max Romeo,
Skaos,
Das Ding,
Faraquet,
The Offenders,
Crispy Ambulance,
Goldenarms,
Bootsy Collins,
Darondo,
Pantaleimon,
Youth Brigade,
Porter Ricks,
Quantec,
Yaz,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.