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 Kiribati and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 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 Quando Quango to the crunk 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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Bush Tetras,
Vladislav Delay,
Hasil Adkins,
Marine Girls,
Interpol,
48th St. Collective,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crispy Ambulance,
Colin Newman,
Jawbox,
Loose Ends,
The Index,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Reed,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Darondo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grauzone,
Accadde A,
The Raincoats,
Reagan Youth,
Terry Callier,
Joyce Sims,
Sandy B,
Fatback Band,
Ken Boothe,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gerry Rafferty,
JFA,
Jacob Miller,
Agent Orange,
Connie Case,
Little Man,
Magazine,
Harpers Bizarre,
Arthur Verocai,
Cymande,
Ice-T,
Flash Fearless,
Lee Hazlewood,
Danielle Patucci,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
David Bowie,
The Last Poets,
The Neon Judgement,
Dark Day,
Patti Smith,
Blake Baxter,
James White and The Blacks,
Audionom,
The Mummies,
The Pop Group,
The Red Krayola,
Supertramp,
Section 25,
The Seeds,
Bronski Beat,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dave Gahan,
Tomorrow,
Monks,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.