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 Morocco and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Dawn Penn to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Bluetip,
Peter & Gordon,
Buzzcocks,
Bang On A Can,
June Days,
Archie Shepp,
Zapp,
Delta 5,
Albert Ayler,
Sixth Finger,
Rites of Spring,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Gun Club,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sparks,
Rosa Yemen,
Sällskapet,
These Immortal Souls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Groovy Waters,
X-101,
Faraquet,
The Detroit Cobras,
Henry Cow,
Moby Grape,
Second Layer,
Lower 48,
The Fall,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Angry Samoans,
The Selecter,
Trumans Water,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang Starr,
Fela Kuti,
Electric Prunes,
Don Cherry,
Guru Guru,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Boz Scaggs,
Ohio Players,
Alphaville,
The Dirtbombs,
ABBA,
Sister Nancy,
Bauhaus,
Visage,
Flamin' Groovies,
Crime,
Metal Thangz,
Janne Schatter,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Modern Lovers,
The Associates,
Underground Resistance,
Connie Case,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.