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 Fiji and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Agent Orange to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Black Bananas,
Theoretical Girls,
Josef K,
a-ha,
The Move,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marmalade,
kango's stein massive,
Sällskapet,
Danielle Patucci,
the Bar-Kays,
Roxette,
The Busters,
Ultravox,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Blossom Toes,
Nico,
Shoche,
Adolescents,
The Cramps,
Country Teasers,
Lou Reed,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fugs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Interpol,
Jandek,
Buzzcocks,
Altered Images,
Y Pants,
Steve Hackett,
Johnny Clarke,
Hot Snakes,
Michelle Simonal,
Model 500,
Liliput,
Kayak,
Mark Hollis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Letta Mbulu,
The Gladiators,
Rekid,
Niagra,
Young Marble Giants,
The Human League,
The Cowsills,
The Blues Magoos,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Golliwogs,
Massinfluence,
Reuben Wilson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kevin Saunderson,
Hasil Adkins,
Icehouse,
The Leaves,
Scientists,
The Barracudas,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rhythm & Sound,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Byron Stingily,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.