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 Papua New Guinea and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba 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 Delon & Dalcan to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Audionom,
June Days,
B.T. Express,
Thompson Twins,
Gang Gang Dance,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Amon Düül II,
Quando Quango,
Bronski Beat,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Last Poets,
Qualms,
Sarah Menescal,
Leonard Cohen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joy Division,
The Blues Magoos,
Suicide,
Cecil Taylor,
Lindisfarne,
Motorama,
The Blackbyrds,
Soft Cell,
Deepchord,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tubeway Army,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Metal Thangz,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Patti Smith,
Rapeman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lyres,
Peter & Gordon,
Boredoms,
Rufus Thomas,
John Coltrane,
Ronnie Foster,
The Fortunes,
David Bowie,
Maurizio,
The Monochrome Set,
Mars,
Colin Newman,
Neil Young,
Whodini,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Masters at Work,
Scrapy,
Heaven 17,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soul II Soul,
Robert Wyatt,
UT,
Jacques Brel,
Swans,
Jacob Miller,
the Slits,
Kaleidoscope,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.