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 Tonga and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Fuzztones to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Angry Samoans,
X-Ray Spex,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lyres,
Second Layer,
Essential Logic,
Stockholm Monsters,
Michelle Simonal,
Lou Christie,
Aswad,
Suicide,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deadbeat,
Ludus,
Ronan,
UT,
the Human League,
Swans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Junior Murvin,
Agent Orange,
Deepchord,
Accadde A,
Letta Mbulu,
The Moody Blues,
The Blues Magoos,
Oblivians,
H. Thieme,
Crispy Ambulance,
Harpers Bizarre,
DNA,
The Walker Brothers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ituana,
Liliput,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Sheep,
Organ,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Gun Club,
The Evens,
Rotary Connection,
Robert Wyatt,
Joensuu 1685,
Average White Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
This Heat,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
MDC,
The Smiths,
Zapp,
Mo-Dettes,
The Vogues,
Bobby Sherman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kas Product,
Franke,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.