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 Jamaica and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Roxette to the punk 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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Al Stewart,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jacob Miller,
The Dave Clark Five,
Archie Shepp,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jawbox,
Pylon,
Graham Central Station,
Minnie Riperton,
Judy Mowatt,
Robert Wyatt,
Delta 5,
Chris Corsano,
Banda Bassotti,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joe Finger,
Marvin Gaye,
Radiopuhelimet,
Parry Music,
Monks,
Piero Umiliani,
Oblivians,
E-Dancer,
Sexual Harrassment,
Babytalk,
China Crisis,
The Victims,
The Sisters of Mercy,
New Age Steppers,
The Velvet Underground,
The Neon Judgement,
Goldenarms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Monks,
The Misunderstood,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Pretty Things,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Terry Callier,
Scion,
Hoover,
Wally Richardson,
Idris Muhammad,
10cc,
cv313,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gang of Four,
The Gun Club,
The Fall,
The Smiths,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fela Kuti,
Ice-T,
Cecil Taylor,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.