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 China and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ludus to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lightning Bolt,
Faust,
Can,
David Axelrod,
Minor Threat,
Crash Course in Science,
Rufus Thomas,
the Soft Cell,
Wally Richardson,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang of Four,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Bananas,
Moss Icon,
Ten City,
Zero Boys,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Blancmange,
Rekid,
New Age Steppers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tomorrow,
Sugar Minott,
Sonic Youth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Suburban Knight,
Patti Smith,
Skarface,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Trumans Water,
X-102,
Sight & Sound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
a-ha,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultra Naté,
Godley & Creme,
Alice Coltrane,
Michelle Simonal,
Vladislav Delay,
The Stooges,
Zapp,
Steve Hackett,
The Shadows of Knight,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jacques Brel,
KRS-One,
Prince Buster,
The Grass Roots,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barry Ungar,
Young Marble Giants,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lou Reed,
The Fugs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stereo Dub,
Skaos,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.