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 Paraguay and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Al Stewart,
48th St. Collective,
Nik Kershaw,
Sex Pistols,
Ornette Coleman,
Lightning Bolt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Icehouse,
Black Sheep,
The Doobie Brothers,
Arthur Verocai,
Heaven 17,
Altered Images,
The Fall,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Roy Ayers,
Albert Ayler,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Subhumans,
X-102,
Chris & Cosey,
Jeff Mills,
Laurel Aitken,
James White and The Blacks,
Marmalade,
The Knickerbockers,
Fatback Band,
Yellowson,
Absolute Body Control,
Toni Rubio,
Circle Jerks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Metal Thangz,
Agent Orange,
The Beau Brummels,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nas,
Rapeman,
The Wake,
Visage,
Eric B and Rakim,
D'Angelo,
Connie Case,
Liliput,
The Offenders,
Eric Copeland,
Iggy Pop,
Barry Ungar,
The Martian,
Dual Sessions,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Wings,
Isaac Hayes,
Byron Stingily,
Sugar Minott,
Amazonics,
Tim Buckley,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.