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 Kosovo and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 David Bowie 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 Talk Talk to the crunk 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
Blake Baxter,
Stiv Bators,
Monolake,
The American Breed,
Dead Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
PIL,
Boredoms,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Siglo XX,
Spoonie Gee,
Girls At Our Best!,
Soft Cell,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Quadrant,
Barry Ungar,
Cameo,
Slick Rick,
Fat Boys,
Joensuu 1685,
Erasure,
Minor Threat,
Ultimate Spinach,
Maleditus Sound,
Ludus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Darondo,
Bronski Beat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
John Lydon,
Sparks,
Massinfluence,
Kaleidoscope,
Saccharine Trust,
Rakim,
The Gun Club,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sam Rivers,
Main Source,
Faust,
Pylon,
Gang of Four,
D'Angelo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Simply Red,
Alison Limerick,
The Fall,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scan 7,
Soulsonic Force,
Intrusion,
Rhythm & Sound,
Leonard Cohen,
Desert Stars,
Television,
Boogie Down Productions,
Spandau Ballet,
Wally Richardson,
Throbbing Gristle,
CMW,
Lucky Dragons,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.