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 Italy and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Michael McDonald 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 Deakin to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Moebius,
David McCallum,
The Move,
Leonard Cohen,
Adolescents,
Gang Green,
Barrington Levy,
Aaron Thompson,
Mars,
Ronnie Foster,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tomorrow,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sonic Youth,
Faust,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Interpol,
June of 44,
Severed Heads,
Mission of Burma,
Faraquet,
Yusef Lateef,
Tom Boy,
Lebanon Hanover,
The American Breed,
Ken Boothe,
Hasil Adkins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Harry Pussy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Man Parrish,
Dennis Brown,
Moss Icon,
Nik Kershaw,
Jesper Dahlback,
Theoretical Girls,
Rites of Spring,
the Association,
Kurtis Blow,
Pussy Galore,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Technova,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Doobie Brothers,
Camouflage,
Porter Ricks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pulsallama,
Roy Ayers,
Morten Harket,
Godley & Creme,
Deadbeat,
Essential Logic,
The Toasters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Goldenarms,
Al Stewart,
Bill Near,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.