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 Uganda and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 harpsichord 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 Idris Muhammad to the rock 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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?
The Slackers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Television,
Dennis Brown,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
June of 44,
Mad Mike,
the Slits,
Swell Maps,
Altered Images,
Duran Duran,
June Days,
Rekid,
The Mojo Men,
New York Dolls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scan 7,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Cramps,
Gerry Rafferty,
Public Enemy,
Sun City Girls,
Inner City,
The Monks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scion,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Albert Ayler,
Moebius,
Drexciya,
The Red Krayola,
Radio Birdman,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scrapy,
The Leaves,
Boz Scaggs,
DJ Sneak,
Jeff Lynne,
Young Marble Giants,
Rosa Yemen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mission of Burma,
Q and Not U,
the Swans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Derrick Morgan,
ABC,
Patti Smith,
The Sisters of Mercy,
David McCallum,
The Walker Brothers,
The Blackbyrds,
Can,
Toni Rubio,
The Invisible,
The Move,
Liliput,
The Star Department,
Alphaville,
Buzzcocks,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.