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 Fiji and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 Shanghai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Harpers Bizarre to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nik Kershaw,
Blossom Toes,
Malaria!,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Leonard Cohen,
Archie Shepp,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marmalade,
Scion,
Jandek,
Magma,
Deadbeat,
The Flesh Eaters,
Janne Schatter,
Peter & Gordon,
Al Stewart,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Modern Lovers,
Man Parrish,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ten City,
Bauhaus,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Coltrane,
Donny Hathaway,
James White and The Blacks,
Max Romeo,
Lower 48,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barrington Levy,
Y Pants,
Television Personalities,
Erykah Badu,
Stereo Dub,
X-102,
One Last Wish,
The Dead C,
Crime,
Stiv Bators,
Gichy Dan,
E-Dancer,
Arthur Verocai,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Misunderstood,
Mo-Dettes,
Cybotron,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fat Boys,
The Leaves,
Harry Pussy,
Depeche Mode,
Monolake,
The Cramps,
The Move,
Ludus,
Roxy Music,
Alphaville,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sugar Minott,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.