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 Lithuania and from London.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Blancmange to the crunk 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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
John Coltrane,
Jerry's Kids,
The Selecter,
John Foxx,
Bootsy Collins,
Ornette Coleman,
48th St. Collective,
John Cale,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
OOIOO,
Sexual Harrassment,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Siglo XX,
Arcadia,
Boz Scaggs,
K-Klass,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Circle Jerks,
Bill Near,
Bush Tetras,
Gang Starr,
U.S. Maple,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Warsaw,
The Saints,
Masters at Work,
David Axelrod,
Grauzone,
Charles Mingus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Main Source,
Goldenarms,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tears for Fears,
Judy Mowatt,
Piero Umiliani,
the Swans,
Outsiders,
Agitation Free,
Suicide,
Stetsasonic,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cluster,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nas,
Scan 7,
Roy Ayers,
Model 500,
Roxy Music,
Amazonics,
a-ha,
The United States of America,
X-Ray Spex,
Young Marble Giants,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Juan Atkins,
Wolf Eyes,
Altered Images,
Barbara Tucker,
Alice Coltrane,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pulsallama,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.