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 Bahamas and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Albert Ayler to the electroclash 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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Derrick May,
Byron Stingily,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mark Hollis,
Hot Snakes,
Harmonia,
Scan 7,
Graham Central Station,
The Raincoats,
The Searchers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
U.S. Maple,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bill Wells,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cybotron,
Lightning Bolt,
Lyres,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nik Kershaw,
Quadrant,
The Count Five,
The Buckinghams,
Stiv Bators,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rapeman,
Cymande,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eric Copeland,
Michelle Simonal,
Gerry Rafferty,
a-ha,
Pole,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Neu!,
ABC,
Andrew Hill,
The Saints,
The Neon Judgement,
Sex Pistols,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Silicon Teens,
La Düsseldorf,
AZ,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grauzone,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Zero Boys,
Bizarre Inc.,
Malaria!,
the Normal,
Q and Not U,
Mantronix,
Rites of Spring,
Thee Headcoats,
Fatback Band,
The Evens,
Brothers Johnson,
Fugazi,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.