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 Niger and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Traffic Nightmare to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Blancmange,
Yazoo,
Black Pus,
Roy Ayers,
Magazine,
The Doors,
Fugazi,
Dead Boys,
Deadbeat,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soft Machine,
Youth Brigade,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cal Tjader,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fat Boys,
Ronnie Foster,
Sonny Sharrock,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Adolescents,
Nico,
Peter and Kerry,
D'Angelo,
The Dead C,
The Birthday Party,
Crash Course in Science,
Basic Channel,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rod Modell,
Barry Ungar,
Depeche Mode,
Chris & Cosey,
Chrome,
Connie Case,
Quantec,
The Real Kids,
Lindisfarne,
John Foxx,
Desert Stars,
The Golliwogs,
New York Dolls,
Eli Mardock,
Bad Manners,
The Busters,
Harry Pussy,
Zapp,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Girls At Our Best!,
Swell Maps,
Brick,
David Bowie,
F. McDonald,
Iggy Pop,
Slave,
The Gap Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Smog,
Scan 7,
Lyres,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.