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 Fiji and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pretty Things to the rock 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
The Standells,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Zapp,
Echospace,
Basic Channel,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Shoche,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Outsiders,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Birthday Party,
Rapeman,
a-ha,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deepchord,
Cal Tjader,
The Searchers,
The Mojo Men,
David Bowie,
Roxette,
Stereo Dub,
Little Man,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Howard Jones,
Guru Guru,
Wolf Eyes,
Todd Rundgren,
The Raincoats,
Donny Hathaway,
Dawn Penn,
Jacques Brel,
kango's stein massive,
John Coltrane,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Bananas,
Darondo,
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Doobie Brothers,
Steve Hackett,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Move,
Groovy Waters,
Marmalade,
Gang of Four,
Joy Division,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fire Engines,
The Techniques,
The Real Kids,
Sarah Menescal,
Popol Vuh,
The Martian,
Ronnie Foster,
Bootsy Collins,
Alice Coltrane,
New Age Steppers,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.