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 Nepal and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 sitar 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 Amazonics to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Motorama,
Little Man,
Joy Division,
Junior Murvin,
Saccharine Trust,
the Germs,
Jerry's Kids,
Lyres,
DJ Style,
Infiniti,
Harpers Bizarre,
Porter Ricks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Grass Roots,
The Black Dice,
Minor Threat,
Alton Ellis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Moss Icon,
Guru Guru,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Newcleus,
Jawbox,
Joyce Sims,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kerri Chandler,
Josef K,
Harmonia,
the Swans,
The Martian,
The Human League,
Y Pants,
Soul II Soul,
the Association,
Vainqueur,
Warren Ellis,
David Axelrod,
Lindisfarne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Donny Hathaway,
Deadbeat,
The Five Americans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gerry Rafferty,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Zeros,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marine Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
The Busters,
Symarip,
Slick Rick,
The Golliwogs,
Ronan,
Darondo,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.