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 Algeria and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Wolf Eyes to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
The Monks,
Bill Wells,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
AZ,
Brick,
June of 44,
Roxette,
Bang On A Can,
Unwound,
Delta 5,
Stereo Dub,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Quantec,
Excepter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Tremeloes,
Todd Rundgren,
The Martian,
X-102,
The Shadows of Knight,
Faust,
Barry Ungar,
James White and The Blacks,
La Düsseldorf,
Slave,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quando Quango,
Boredoms,
Lucky Dragons,
Angry Samoans,
Drexciya,
Procol Harum,
Grey Daturas,
Radio Birdman,
Pagans,
Chris & Cosey,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Invisible,
The Fuzztones,
Parry Music,
The Moody Blues,
Zero Boys,
Heaven 17,
The Standells,
K-Klass,
Agitation Free,
Khruangbin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Grauzone,
Howard Jones,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
PIL,
Make Up,
Bobby Womack,
Pere Ubu,
The Slits,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Masters at Work,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.