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 Kenya and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Ice-T,
The Selecter,
Glenn Branca,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tom Boy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Talk Talk,
Bill Wells,
The Associates,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chrome,
Goldenarms,
These Immortal Souls,
Jawbox,
Yusef Lateef,
Kenny Larkin,
Amon Düül,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Offenders,
Public Image Ltd.,
Arab on Radar,
Eddi Front,
Albert Ayler,
E-Dancer,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Pus,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Hardrive,
The Fall,
UT,
Au Pairs,
The Pretty Things,
the Slits,
K-Klass,
Joe Smooth,
Barbara Tucker,
Roy Ayers,
World's Most,
DJ Style,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
FM Einheit,
Television Personalities,
The Cowsills,
The Techniques,
The Index,
The Raincoats,
The Durutti Column,
Schoolly D,
Sixth Finger,
Grandmaster Flash,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crash Course in Science,
Model 500,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Janne Schatter,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.