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 Tuvalu and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba 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 The Barracudas to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Suicide,
Bush Tetras,
Ohio Players,
The Grass Roots,
The Blues Magoos,
Los Fastidios,
Lower 48,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cymande,
Scion,
Ice-T,
Royal Trux,
Niagra,
Crispy Ambulance,
Thompson Twins,
Sugar Minott,
Robert Hood,
Anakelly,
Goldenarms,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wolf Eyes,
Neil Young,
The Gun Club,
Second Layer,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Curtis Mayfield,
Theoretical Girls,
Althea and Donna,
Motorama,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gang Green,
Underground Resistance,
Lindisfarne,
Rapeman,
Ossler,
Black Bananas,
The Moleskins,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Invisible,
The Sonics,
Kayak,
Minutemen,
Young Marble Giants,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Barrington Levy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Pretty Things,
Jesper Dahlback,
Au Pairs,
The Dirtbombs,
Inner City,
Mo-Dettes,
the Swans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fugazi,
The Seeds,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Flash Fearless,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.