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 Moldova and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the rock 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
a-ha,
Livin' Joy,
The Angels of Light,
The Wake,
Neil Young,
Al Stewart,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bad Manners,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mars,
David McCallum,
The Residents,
T.S.O.L.,
the Germs,
Isaac Hayes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Duran Duran,
Brick,
Boredoms,
Von Mondo,
Sex Pistols,
Bush Tetras,
Country Joe & The Fish,
China Crisis,
David Bowie,
U.S. Maple,
Delon & Dalcan,
Urselle,
Fluxion,
Glambeats Corp.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Names,
ABC,
John Lydon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tom Boy,
AZ,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Starr,
Slave,
Ken Boothe,
Stiv Bators,
Barrington Levy,
Harry Pussy,
Minor Threat,
Chris & Cosey,
Model 500,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kenny Larkin,
Eric Copeland,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lower 48,
Suicide,
Dual Sessions,
Kaleidoscope,
Erasure,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.