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 United States and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Peter & Gordon to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 UT. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Unwound,
Scratch Acid,
Donny Hathaway,
Whodini,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Alice Coltrane,
The Human League,
Prince Buster,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Neil Young,
Alton Ellis,
Joe Finger,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Skriet,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dead Boys,
the Germs,
John Lydon,
Crooked Eye,
Idris Muhammad,
The Motions,
Rufus Thomas,
Al Stewart,
Urselle,
Soulsonic Force,
New Age Steppers,
Robert Hood,
Junior Murvin,
10cc,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Human League,
Inner City,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Zeros,
Mad Mike,
Donald Byrd,
The Techniques,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gabor Szabo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sister Nancy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Zapp,
cv313,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Sheep,
Harry Pussy,
Intrusion,
Morten Harket,
Yusef Lateef,
Desert Stars,
Groovy Waters,
Eric Dolphy,
the Sonics,
The Busters,
Black Moon,
Arthur Verocai,
Wally Richardson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.