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 Suriname and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 harpsichord 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 Excepter to the punk 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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Jeff Mills,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lalann,
Country Teasers,
Tomorrow,
Little Man,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Visage,
Warren Ellis,
Crime,
Max Romeo,
Peter and Kerry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Techniques,
Scratch Acid,
Fluxion,
The Gladiators,
The Beau Brummels,
Procol Harum,
Sam Rivers,
Lucky Dragons,
Camouflage,
Carl Craig,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Moby Grape,
A Certain Ratio,
Quadrant,
Nik Kershaw,
Eric Dolphy,
Easy Going,
Scrapy,
Eurythmics,
Eyeless In Gaza,
La Düsseldorf,
Niagra,
The Raincoats,
The Red Krayola,
Eddi Front,
Chris Corsano,
Tres Demented,
FM Einheit,
Bang On A Can,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rakim,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Fugs,
Buzzcocks,
Dawn Penn,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brand Nubian,
Livin' Joy,
The Offenders,
Clear Light,
Roger Hodgson,
The Five Americans,
Bronski Beat,
Barclay James Harvest,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.