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 Tuvalu and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Robert Palmer 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 Fat Boys to the punk 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Tommy Roe,
Urselle,
Sällskapet,
Sarah Menescal,
Agent Orange,
Suburban Knight,
June Days,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pulsallama,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Skaos,
Cameo,
Rapeman,
48th St. Collective,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rekid,
Glambeats Corp.,
Magma,
Vladislav Delay,
Idris Muhammad,
Joe Smooth,
Barry Ungar,
Accadde A,
Scrapy,
Maleditus Sound,
Masters at Work,
Deadbeat,
Ultravox,
Lower 48,
Mark Hollis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Young Marble Giants,
The United States of America,
Jesper Dahlback,
New York Dolls,
Arab on Radar,
Goldenarms,
Gabor Szabo,
The Moleskins,
a-ha,
Porter Ricks,
Scan 7,
Joyce Sims,
the Germs,
Boz Scaggs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Section 25,
Livin' Joy,
Mission of Burma,
Con Funk Shun,
Skriet,
Scion,
John Lydon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Radiopuhelimet,
Monolake,
Inner City,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.