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 Vanuatu and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba 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 Rapeman to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Slits,
Reagan Youth,
Suburban Knight,
AZ,
Rhythm & Sound,
Los Fastidios,
Moss Icon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Hasil Adkins,
Warsaw,
Josef K,
The Dead C,
JFA,
Yazoo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fat Boys,
Q and Not U,
Robert Görl,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Angels of Light,
L. Decosne,
Excepter,
a-ha,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Mojo Men,
Piero Umiliani,
Soulsonic Force,
Gang Gang Dance,
Visage,
Gang Starr,
Ohio Players,
The Divine Comedy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Residents,
The Durutti Column,
Procol Harum,
Matthew Bourne,
Gichy Dan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Grey Daturas,
The Shadows of Knight,
Unwound,
Man Parrish,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fire Engines,
Babytalk,
The Real Kids,
Motorama,
The Busters,
Nico,
Whodini,
Henry Cow,
The Gories,
Index,
The Seeds,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Con Funk Shun,
Tom Boy,
Mars,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.