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 Brazil and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Yazoo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Traffic Nightmare,
Organ,
Eric B and Rakim,
Derrick Morgan,
Sister Nancy,
The Tremeloes,
48th St. Collective,
Prince Buster,
Rakim,
Ken Boothe,
Tears for Fears,
Section 25,
Basic Channel,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Flipper,
The Misunderstood,
The Fire Engines,
Harmonia,
Negative Approach,
Dave Gahan,
The Evens,
Shuggie Otis,
David McCallum,
Arab on Radar,
Fela Kuti,
Franke,
The Litter,
One Last Wish,
Camouflage,
Icehouse,
Trumans Water,
Little Man,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Mojo Men,
Pussy Galore,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ohio Players,
Suburban Knight,
Kerrie Biddell,
FM Einheit,
Alice Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken,
Ossler,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Altered Images,
Severed Heads,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pere Ubu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mark Hollis,
Swell Maps,
Neil Young,
The Five Americans,
Sound Behaviour,
Andrew Hill,
Shoche,
Pantaleimon,
Darondo,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.