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 Botswana and from New York.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 clarinet 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 The Detroit Cobras to the grunge 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Crime,
Simply Red,
Leonard Cohen,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sam Rivers,
The Seeds,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Public Enemy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Cale,
Hasil Adkins,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Divine Comedy,
the Slits,
Bizarre Inc.,
Blossom Toes,
Hot Snakes,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Neon Judgement,
U.S. Maple,
Saccharine Trust,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Saints,
Mr. Review,
The Knickerbockers,
Sällskapet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lucky Dragons,
Fat Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Motorama,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Residents,
Minnie Riperton,
Patti Smith,
La Düsseldorf,
The Raincoats,
The Red Krayola,
Talk Talk,
Pantaleimon,
Intrusion,
Maurizio,
Morten Harket,
Panda Bear,
Tres Demented,
Freddie Wadling,
The Durutti Column,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rosa Yemen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bang On A Can,
Todd Rundgren,
Josef K,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Quadrant,
Warren Ellis,
Desert Stars,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.