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 Brunei and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Holger Czukay 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Raincoats,
Barbara Tucker,
Buzzcocks,
Malaria!,
The Cure,
Suicide,
Soft Cell,
Sixth Finger,
Mo-Dettes,
The Count Five,
Boogie Down Productions,
Duran Duran,
Steve Hackett,
Tres Demented,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Infiniti,
U.S. Maple,
The Velvet Underground,
The Gories,
Connie Case,
Hot Snakes,
Scientists,
Radio Birdman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultra Naté,
Fat Boys,
Roy Ayers,
Glenn Branca,
The New Christs,
Terrestrial Tones,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cluster,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Country Teasers,
Television Personalities,
Joe Smooth,
DJ Sneak,
Lyres,
Dawn Penn,
Ituana,
The Cramps,
The Five Americans,
FM Einheit,
Yazoo,
Fad Gadget,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Godley & Creme,
The Angels of Light,
Pussy Galore,
Pylon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bluetip,
The Walker Brothers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Slackers,
Metal Thangz,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.