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 Iran and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Raincoats to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Gang Green,
The Raincoats,
The Count Five,
Mandrill,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eddi Front,
PIL,
Lower 48,
The Saints,
Public Enemy,
Mr. Review,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wasted Youth,
Schoolly D,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
48th St. Collective,
Severed Heads,
Tim Buckley,
AZ,
Urselle,
Jacob Miller,
The Gun Club,
Lebanon Hanover,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Section 25,
Bill Wells,
The Stooges,
The Gladiators,
Erykah Badu,
The Human League,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fluxion,
Vladislav Delay,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sparks,
Swell Maps,
Dead Boys,
Tres Demented,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lakeside,
Sonic Youth,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sun Ra,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Suicide,
Bootsy Collins,
Royal Trux,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dead C,
Ralphi Rosario,
Flash Fearless,
Half Japanese,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cymande,
The Smoke,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.