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 Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Siglo XX to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba 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 rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
June Days,
Joy Division,
Marvin Gaye,
David McCallum,
Ponytail,
The Pop Group,
Colin Newman,
Howard Jones,
The Fugs,
Alison Limerick,
The Grass Roots,
UT,
Sparks,
Pulsallama,
U.S. Maple,
Slave,
Stetsasonic,
Amon Düül II,
Man Eating Sloth,
D'Angelo,
T. Rex,
Pierre Henry,
The Martian,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lightning Bolt,
The Skatalites,
Schoolly D,
The Saints,
Oblivians,
Khruangbin,
The Moody Blues,
Los Fastidios,
a-ha,
X-Ray Spex,
Surgeon,
Godley & Creme,
The Modern Lovers,
The Black Dice,
Tears for Fears,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hasil Adkins,
Marine Girls,
Swell Maps,
The Remains,
Supertramp,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crooked Eye,
The Residents,
Bush Tetras,
Accadde A,
Nico,
Sun Ra,
Flash Fearless,
Con Funk Shun,
The Moleskins,
Average White Band,
CMW,
The Names,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.