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 Barbados and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 synthesizer 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 Ronnie Foster to the dance 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Kaleidoscope,
PIL,
Donny Hathaway,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bill Wells,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Dirtbombs,
Rufus Thomas,
Jerry's Kids,
Andrew Hill,
Avey Tare,
The Gories,
The Selecter,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gladiators,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Motions,
The Cure,
Alison Limerick,
Roger Hodgson,
Japan,
Delta 5,
Kas Product,
Sister Nancy,
Pierre Henry,
Popol Vuh,
The Searchers,
Gichy Dan,
Intrusion,
Soulsonic Force,
Radiohead,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Holt,
Motorama,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Slick Rick,
Minny Pops,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Robert Wyatt,
MDC,
Dead Boys,
New York Dolls,
Ituana,
The Five Americans,
Tom Boy,
Panda Bear,
Curtis Mayfield,
FM Einheit,
Yaz,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Pop Group,
Warsaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rosa Yemen,
Public Enemy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Severed Heads,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.