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 China and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin 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 Peter & Gordon to the grunge 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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
The Toasters,
The Star Department,
Fluxion,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Selecter,
Crash Course in Science,
Q and Not U,
Television,
T. Rex,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wings,
Thompson Twins,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Procol Harum,
The Mummies,
Archie Shepp,
Rosa Yemen,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Stereo Dub,
Shoche,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Yazoo,
Theoretical Girls,
Erasure,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kurtis Blow,
The Seeds,
Boogie Down Productions,
Johnny Clarke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Zero Boys,
Albert Ayler,
Nick Fraelich,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sam Rivers,
X-Ray Spex,
Bob Dylan,
One Last Wish,
JFA,
Gichy Dan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Freddie Wadling,
Unwound,
David Bowie,
Fela Kuti,
Monolake,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Neon Judgement,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
E-Dancer,
Gil Scott Heron,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sixth Finger,
Buzzcocks,
Magazine,
Tubeway Army,
The Human League,
ABC,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.