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 Jamaica and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
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 clarinet 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 Moss Icon to the funk 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Human League,
Harry Pussy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kas Product,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Leaves,
Talk Talk,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ten City,
Excepter,
Quantec,
CMW,
Ultra Naté,
Blake Baxter,
T.S.O.L.,
The Electric Prunes,
The Busters,
Camouflage,
Harpers Bizarre,
Minnie Riperton,
The Martian,
Jesper Dahlback,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rites of Spring,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minny Pops,
Al Stewart,
Pagans,
Smog,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Glambeats Corp.,
Metal Thangz,
8 Eyed Spy,
Faraquet,
Joe Finger,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
New York Dolls,
The Buckinghams,
Audionom,
The Neon Judgement,
Donny Hathaway,
Terry Callier,
Eve St. Jones,
The Walker Brothers,
Deakin,
Visage,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Alarm Clocks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Grauzone,
In Retrospect,
Easy Going,
Crispy Ambulance,
Yazoo,
Patti Smith,
Reagan Youth,
The Fall,
Mr. Review,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.