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 Korea South and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Babytalk to the punk 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Franke,
Neu!,
Black Pus,
Fear,
Derrick Morgan,
Average White Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Isaac Hayes,
Von Mondo,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Normal,
Kool Moe Dee,
Electric Light Orchestra,
La Düsseldorf,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Angry Samoans,
Nick Fraelich,
DJ Sneak,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Martian,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pole,
Fad Gadget,
The Five Americans,
Flash Fearless,
Swell Maps,
Henry Cow,
Soul Sonic Force,
Livin' Joy,
Chris Corsano,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amazonics,
Boz Scaggs,
Second Layer,
Outsiders,
Marmalade,
Bad Manners,
The Busters,
Animal Collective,
Ossler,
Malaria!,
James White and The Blacks,
Flipper,
Scion,
Erykah Badu,
Amon Düül II,
Gong,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bob Dylan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
ABBA,
DNA,
Guru Guru,
Roxy Music,
Drive Like Jehu,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gun Club,
John Foxx,
The Angels of Light,
Mr. Review,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.