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 Barbados and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet 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 FM Einheit to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
H. Thieme,
Robert Görl,
Danielle Patucci,
Pantaleimon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Steve Hackett,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Shoche,
Hot Snakes,
Funky Four + One,
Tomorrow,
Patti Smith,
Joey Negro,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Reed,
The Misunderstood,
Intrusion,
Model 500,
Sugar Minott,
Todd Rundgren,
Brick,
Underground Resistance,
the Bar-Kays,
Ludus,
Scan 7,
Aaron Thompson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Blues Magoos,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Slits,
48th St. Collective,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Connie Case,
David McCallum,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Desert Stars,
The Smoke,
Basic Channel,
David Bowie,
Japan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Leaves,
Duran Duran,
Peter & Gordon,
Brass Construction,
Liliput,
the Human League,
Traffic Nightmare,
Johnny Clarke,
Fela Kuti,
Rosa Yemen,
The Monks,
Radio Birdman,
The United States of America,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rekid,
Schoolly D,
Groovy Waters,
Wire,
Soul II Soul,
Ponytail,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.