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 Norway and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar 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 Aswad to the techno 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eurythmics,
T.S.O.L.,
L. Decosne,
Matthew Bourne,
The Associates,
Steve Hackett,
Stereo Dub,
Jacques Brel,
New Order,
Dave Gahan,
The Selecter,
The Martian,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Inner City,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lindisfarne,
Tom Boy,
Second Layer,
Half Japanese,
Circle Jerks,
Audionom,
Rekid,
The Dirtbombs,
Desert Stars,
Flamin' Groovies,
Khruangbin,
Wolf Eyes,
Smog,
A Certain Ratio,
Magma,
Deadbeat,
Sandy B,
CMW,
Gabor Szabo,
Henry Cow,
Spoonie Gee,
The Young Rascals,
The Walker Brothers,
Ronnie Foster,
Sarah Menescal,
Arthur Verocai,
Junior Murvin,
Hasil Adkins,
Electric Prunes,
Nas,
Josef K,
Robert Görl,
Cymande,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Model 500,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Robert Wyatt,
Bush Tetras,
The Fugs,
John Holt,
Nation of Ulysses,
PIL,
The Index,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.