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 Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Icehouse to the crunk 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Severed Heads,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
China Crisis,
Drexciya,
Dawn Penn,
Simply Red,
Marshall Jefferson,
Josef K,
Easy Going,
Jeru the Damaja,
cv313,
Moby Grape,
Sparks,
Tim Buckley,
Crooked Eye,
Kool Moe Dee,
Colin Newman,
Byron Stingily,
Michelle Simonal,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dead Boys,
FM Einheit,
Unrelated Segments,
Qualms,
Eddi Front,
Ken Boothe,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sarah Menescal,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Deadbeat,
Lindisfarne,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Gun Club,
Audionom,
Suicide,
The Beau Brummels,
Procol Harum,
Chris & Cosey,
The Durutti Column,
The Mummies,
Model 500,
Talk Talk,
John Foxx,
The Buckinghams,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pole,
Quantec,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
June Days,
Neil Young,
The Human League,
Minny Pops,
CMW,
Neu!,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ituana,
a-ha,
the Normal,
Alton Ellis,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.