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 Switzerland and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes 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 The Monochrome Set to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Scion,
Eden Ahbez,
Tom Boy,
The Golliwogs,
Main Source,
Roxette,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Little Man,
Black Sheep,
Harry Pussy,
Flash Fearless,
Black Moon,
The Slits,
Al Stewart,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Simply Red,
Bush Tetras,
Scratch Acid,
Crispian St. Peters,
Blake Baxter,
The Fall,
Mad Mike,
Pere Ubu,
Mandrill,
John Coltrane,
Marine Girls,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Gories,
John Cale,
Darondo,
Fugazi,
Intrusion,
Gang Green,
Thompson Twins,
Half Japanese,
Banda Bassotti,
The Victims,
Alison Limerick,
Rotary Connection,
The Mummies,
David Axelrod,
Scan 7,
The Angels of Light,
Section 25,
The Alarm Clocks,
The J.B.'s,
Con Funk Shun,
Inner City,
The Remains,
Juan Atkins,
The Cowsills,
Flipper,
Siglo XX,
Sällskapet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grauzone,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.