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 Mongolia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Dead C to the dance 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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
48th St. Collective,
Make Up,
Roxette,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kas Product,
Section 25,
Donald Byrd,
Marmalade,
Blossom Toes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Porter Ricks,
Can,
Jacques Brel,
Groovy Waters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gregory Isaacs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Byron Stingily,
Thompson Twins,
Matthew Halsall,
Con Funk Shun,
Crime,
The Mojo Men,
Jeff Lynne,
Barrington Levy,
Roxy Music,
This Heat,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mr. Review,
Dark Day,
Shuggie Otis,
Nils Olav,
The Smiths,
Lee Hazlewood,
The New Christs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Harpers Bizarre,
Model 500,
Gil Scott Heron,
Delta 5,
Minor Threat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Derrick May,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Au Pairs,
Dawn Penn,
Black Pus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Idris Muhammad,
Vainqueur,
The Monks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rotary Connection,
Janne Schatter,
Peter and Kerry,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.