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 Haiti and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jacques Brel 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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Stetsasonic,
Yazoo,
The Five Americans,
the Germs,
Erasure,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ronan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Model 500,
Bobby Sherman,
Pulsallama,
Can,
Big Daddy Kane,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Gladiators,
Franke,
Brick,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Blues Magoos,
X-102,
Lindisfarne,
Funky Four + One,
Sex Pistols,
Angry Samoans,
Al Stewart,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ice-T,
Barbara Tucker,
The Standells,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Iggy Pop,
Tommy Roe,
Johnny Osbourne,
June Days,
Hashim,
Bad Manners,
Byron Stingily,
Aaron Thompson,
The Angels of Light,
June of 44,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric Dolphy,
Supertramp,
The Pop Group,
Crooked Eye,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sound Behaviour,
The Moody Blues,
The Slackers,
Dual Sessions,
The Red Krayola,
Brand Nubian,
Blossom Toes,
Rapeman,
Dawn Penn,
Technova,
Thee Headcoats,
Todd Rundgren,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.