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 Sierra Leone and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet 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 Soft Machine to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Desert Stars,
The Beau Brummels,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tim Buckley,
The Sound,
Inner City,
The Stooges,
Joey Negro,
Judy Mowatt,
Rites of Spring,
the Slits,
Yusef Lateef,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sällskapet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
X-Ray Spex,
The Velvet Underground,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dave Gahan,
Maurizio,
The Angels of Light,
The Birthday Party,
The Monochrome Set,
Crash Course in Science,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Fortunes,
Bobby Byrd,
The Real Kids,
Gang Green,
Deadbeat,
Scratch Acid,
Main Source,
Jeff Lynne,
Fugazi,
Thompson Twins,
Barry Ungar,
Stiv Bators,
The Index,
Oblivians,
The Golliwogs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
China Crisis,
Prince Buster,
Hardrive,
Masters at Work,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Babytalk,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
ABBA,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Schoolly D,
Boz Scaggs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lower 48,
Pole,
Morten Harket,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Janne Schatter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.