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 Chad and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Y Pants to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
The Detroit Cobras,
Royal Trux,
Porter Ricks,
Bad Manners,
The Divine Comedy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Joensuu 1685,
Black Pus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wings,
The Trojans,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Cowsills,
Metal Thangz,
The Fortunes,
Roger Hodgson,
Duran Duran,
8 Eyed Spy,
The New Christs,
Surgeon,
Desert Stars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Brick,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Electric Prunes,
Brass Construction,
Sun Ra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rod Modell,
China Crisis,
DJ Sneak,
Hoover,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Blossom Toes,
Oblivians,
Icehouse,
Alice Coltrane,
Minutemen,
Smog,
Masters at Work,
The Slits,
Jeff Mills,
Mantronix,
Brand Nubian,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Bananas,
Blake Baxter,
Mars,
The Young Rascals,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Stiv Bators,
New York Dolls,
KRS-One,
ABC,
Yusef Lateef,
Chris & Cosey,
The Moody Blues,
The Names,
Model 500,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.