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 Saudi Arabia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Electric Prunes,
The Litter,
Archie Shepp,
The Barracudas,
Oneida,
the Association,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Residents,
Rod Modell,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
LL Cool J,
Babytalk,
The Fuzztones,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Smiths,
Metal Thangz,
David Bowie,
Funkadelic,
Sound Behaviour,
Visage,
Jawbox,
Country Teasers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gabor Szabo,
Andrew Hill,
Quadrant,
New Age Steppers,
Clear Light,
a-ha,
The Black Dice,
Motorama,
Section 25,
Gang Green,
Sarah Menescal,
Jandek,
Pere Ubu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Neon Judgement,
Howard Jones,
The Red Krayola,
Scott Walker,
Von Mondo,
Franke,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deadbeat,
Peter & Gordon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Essential Logic,
Wolf Eyes,
Joe Finger,
The Moody Blues,
Rapeman,
Fatback Band,
Drexciya,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minny Pops,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.