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 France and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 UT to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
The Birthday Party,
Sugar Minott,
Bob Dylan,
Rufus Thomas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Desert Stars,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sex Pistols,
Arcadia,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Unrelated Segments,
Darondo,
Inner City,
Alton Ellis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Average White Band,
Moby Grape,
These Immortal Souls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lyres,
L. Decosne,
Lindisfarne,
Slave,
Main Source,
DNA,
Janne Schatter,
Groovy Waters,
the Sonics,
Sarah Menescal,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Move,
Mo-Dettes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Man Parrish,
Television,
Tim Buckley,
Reagan Youth,
Joey Negro,
X-Ray Spex,
Barbara Tucker,
Max Romeo,
The Dirtbombs,
Joy Division,
Mars,
Skarface,
Pere Ubu,
Steve Hackett,
Flash Fearless,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cowsills,
The Smiths,
The Divine Comedy,
Moebius,
Blancmange,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tubeway Army,
Jeru the Damaja,
Monks,
Minutemen,
Youth Brigade,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.