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 Madagascar and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator 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 Yusef Lateef to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crooked Eye,
Mo-Dettes,
The Standells,
MDC,
Ice-T,
Mark Hollis,
Thompson Twins,
Roy Ayers,
Marmalade,
Goldenarms,
Althea and Donna,
Roxy Music,
Surgeon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Yaz,
Kenny Larkin,
Lebanon Hanover,
Massinfluence,
Peter & Gordon,
The Gun Club,
Barry Ungar,
The Move,
Gregory Isaacs,
Average White Band,
Morten Harket,
Boz Scaggs,
Quando Quango,
Ken Boothe,
Gabor Szabo,
The Searchers,
Stiv Bators,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pole,
the Germs,
Jawbox,
Bluetip,
Television,
These Immortal Souls,
Livin' Joy,
Clear Light,
Erasure,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Skaos,
Amazonics,
Talk Talk,
Robert Görl,
Blancmange,
Electric Prunes,
Freddie Wadling,
June Days,
The American Breed,
Cluster,
Kerri Chandler,
Cymande,
The Human League,
Hoover,
The Trojans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.