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 Tonga and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the crunk 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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Main Source,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Boredoms,
Tomorrow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
48th St. Collective,
Trumans Water,
Gastr Del Sol,
Inner City,
John Coltrane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
New York Dolls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Martian,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Malaria!,
Parry Music,
MDC,
Sex Pistols,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
K-Klass,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Clear Light,
Soulsonic Force,
Maurizio,
The Grass Roots,
The United States of America,
Bobby Sherman,
The Zeros,
Judy Mowatt,
Hoover,
ABC,
The Electric Prunes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crash Course in Science,
Model 500,
Sällskapet,
ABBA,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Sheep,
Tears for Fears,
The Mojo Men,
Kayak,
Sparks,
Eden Ahbez,
La Düsseldorf,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Dirtbombs,
Jawbox,
Scrapy,
Bauhaus,
Connie Case,
Marmalade,
The Smiths,
Howard Jones,
Barry Ungar,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.