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 Indonesia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Ultravox to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Music Machine,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Groovy Waters,
Rakim,
Goldenarms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gichy Dan,
Brothers Johnson,
Todd Terry,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pylon,
Donny Hathaway,
The Wake,
Buzzcocks,
Toni Rubio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fela Kuti,
A Certain Ratio,
Minny Pops,
The Birthday Party,
Robert Wyatt,
F. McDonald,
Joe Smooth,
Subhumans,
The Divine Comedy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Leaves,
John Foxx,
Monks,
Dead Boys,
the Soft Cell,
Trumans Water,
The Searchers,
Roxy Music,
Easy Going,
Moss Icon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
In Retrospect,
The Cure,
Tomorrow,
The Dead C,
a-ha,
R.M.O.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dark Day,
DJ Sneak,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kerri Chandler,
Rotary Connection,
The Seeds,
Morten Harket,
Second Layer,
These Immortal Souls,
48th St. Collective,
Reuben Wilson,
Whodini,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.