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 Guyana and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Moleskins to the punk 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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Remains,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Das Ding,
Erasure,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pole,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rites of Spring,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yellowson,
Robert Hood,
Moss Icon,
Subhumans,
Harry Pussy,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fall,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The American Breed,
the Human League,
The Cramps,
Josef K,
The Cure,
Scion,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marine Girls,
Jandek,
Davy DMX,
Darondo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sun City Girls,
La Düsseldorf,
Electric Prunes,
Motorama,
Suburban Knight,
Neu!,
X-101,
LL Cool J,
EPMD,
Archie Shepp,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Lydon,
R.M.O.,
Bluetip,
Laurel Aitken,
Simply Red,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rufus Thomas,
Sex Pistols,
Wings,
kango's stein massive,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deepchord,
James White and The Blacks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.