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 Bangladesh and from Tehran.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Faraquet to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Ludus,
The Associates,
Bootsy Collins,
Archie Shepp,
The Pop Group,
The Alarm Clocks,
Soft Cell,
The Last Poets,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Index,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marc Almond,
Al Stewart,
The Gap Band,
Pole,
The Cramps,
Pierre Henry,
June Days,
Pantaleimon,
Stiv Bators,
The Saints,
John Foxx,
Cheater Slicks,
48th St. Collective,
Bush Tetras,
Thompson Twins,
The Happenings,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bronski Beat,
Black Pus,
Ultravox,
Sun City Girls,
Arcadia,
Boogie Down Productions,
Icehouse,
The Wake,
The Fall,
Zapp,
DNA,
Sexual Harrassment,
Royal Trux,
Nico,
The Fugs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kayak,
Grauzone,
Young Marble Giants,
Chris & Cosey,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Names,
The New Christs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cowsills,
Lungfish,
Moebius,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Alton Ellis,
Liliput,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.