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 Tajikistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the jazz 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
Sound Behaviour,
The Human League,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Litter,
Matthew Halsall,
Fluxion,
Toni Rubio,
Infiniti,
The Evens,
Skarface,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eurythmics,
Ultravox,
kango's stein massive,
The Gun Club,
The Angels of Light,
Pere Ubu,
Yazoo,
Connie Case,
Dead Boys,
Can,
The Searchers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Banda Bassotti,
Zero Boys,
Crooked Eye,
Vladislav Delay,
The Skatalites,
Hoover,
Q65,
Minny Pops,
Lalann,
Talk Talk,
K-Klass,
Josef K,
The Cure,
Gichy Dan,
Arab on Radar,
Traffic Nightmare,
Radiohead,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Move,
Magazine,
Trumans Water,
Depeche Mode,
Black Bananas,
Steve Hackett,
The Young Rascals,
Porter Ricks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Guru Guru,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fela Kuti,
Roger Hodgson,
Main Source,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sparks,
The Blackbyrds,
10cc,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.