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 Liechtenstein and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Boredoms to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Niagra,
Lungfish,
Magma,
Sex Pistols,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rites of Spring,
Eve St. Jones,
Letta Mbulu,
Lou Reed,
Roger Hodgson,
Gabor Szabo,
Angry Samoans,
Sight & Sound,
The Fugs,
Nik Kershaw,
Steve Hackett,
Blake Baxter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jandek,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Bar-Kays,
The Evens,
Black Bananas,
Godley & Creme,
Funky Four + One,
Aswad,
48th St. Collective,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Yusef Lateef,
Groovy Waters,
Harmonia,
The Slackers,
Mantronix,
Jeff Lynne,
Deadbeat,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Archie Shepp,
Qualms,
Michelle Simonal,
Average White Band,
Japan,
John Cale,
Darondo,
Matthew Bourne,
The Slits,
OOIOO,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
E-Dancer,
The Kinks,
Nils Olav,
Masters at Work,
Pussy Galore,
Babytalk,
AZ,
The Trojans,
Sparks,
John Holt,
Rosa Yemen,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Trumans Water,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.