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 Sri Lanka and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin 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 Country Teasers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Rapeman,
Pagans,
Intrusion,
Public Enemy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Peter & Gordon,
La Düsseldorf,
Wolf Eyes,
Underground Resistance,
Aaron Thompson,
Funkadelic,
Section 25,
Hot Snakes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bluetip,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wasted Youth,
Heaven 17,
Bob Dylan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Glenn Branca,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
June Days,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The J.B.'s,
Lightning Bolt,
H. Thieme,
Henry Cow,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sonic Youth,
Guru Guru,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Blues Magoos,
Sexual Harrassment,
Khruangbin,
Funky Four + One,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Slits,
The Fortunes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Faraquet,
Sällskapet,
Eve St. Jones,
The Selecter,
The Slackers,
Roger Hodgson,
Soft Cell,
The Monochrome Set,
Audionom,
Rod Modell,
Ossler,
Boz Scaggs,
Smog,
Gang Green,
This Heat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Q and Not U,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.