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 Tunisia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Boogie Down Productions to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Alison Limerick,
Deepchord,
Eden Ahbez,
Buzzcocks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Funky Four + One,
Slave,
Iggy Pop,
Hot Snakes,
Khruangbin,
Spandau Ballet,
MDC,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ituana,
The Tremeloes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Throbbing Gristle,
This Heat,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Country Teasers,
Model 500,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sugar Minott,
Make Up,
Au Pairs,
Blossom Toes,
Henry Cow,
Lakeside,
Desert Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
EPMD,
Deadbeat,
One Last Wish,
Motorama,
Roxette,
Howard Jones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Black Pus,
Marc Almond,
Fat Boys,
JFA,
ABC,
The Buckinghams,
Mantronix,
Electric Prunes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lou Reed,
Todd Rundgren,
Camouflage,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Interpol,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
K-Klass,
Piero Umiliani,
The American Breed,
The Trojans,
Minnie Riperton,
The Five Americans,
The Slits,
Rosa Yemen,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.