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 Tunisia 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Aswad to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Au Pairs,
Marc Almond,
Bill Wells,
Amazonics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Drexciya,
Deakin,
Blake Baxter,
Sight & Sound,
Jimmy McGriff,
MDC,
X-Ray Spex,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cure,
Roxy Music,
The Smoke,
Crooked Eye,
The Mojo Men,
Blossom Toes,
Arthur Verocai,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fall,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lalo Schifrin,
Funkadelic,
A Certain Ratio,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Crime,
Todd Rundgren,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Slits,
Warren Ellis,
the Soft Cell,
Whodini,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Warsaw,
The Electric Prunes,
Rod Modell,
Popol Vuh,
Tubeway Army,
10cc,
Swell Maps,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Matthew Halsall,
Heaven 17,
The Leaves,
Fugazi,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Stooges,
L. Decosne,
Danielle Patucci,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Modern Lovers,
Hoover,
The Moody Blues,
Scan 7,
Suburban Knight,
Ornette Coleman,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.