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 Marshall Islands and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 güiro 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 Yusef Lateef to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Harmonia,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Evens,
Grey Daturas,
The Doors,
Fear,
Nik Kershaw,
The Beau Brummels,
The Selecter,
Public Enemy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Glenn Branca,
Wings,
Yaz,
Magazine,
The Knickerbockers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eli Mardock,
Parry Music,
Marmalade,
Rakim,
T.S.O.L.,
Sex Pistols,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joey Negro,
Arthur Verocai,
Country Teasers,
X-101,
The United States of America,
Kas Product,
Masters at Work,
Das Ding,
The Offenders,
Inner City,
Spandau Ballet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Liliput,
The American Breed,
Soft Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Tommy Roe,
Mars,
The Zeros,
Arcadia,
The Leaves,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oblivians,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sight & Sound,
The Tremeloes,
Rufus Thomas,
Byron Stingily,
Hot Snakes,
Jeru the Damaja,
June of 44,
8 Eyed Spy,
Altered Images,
Idris Muhammad,
The Angels of Light,
the Association,
Popol Vuh,
Derrick Morgan,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.