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 Nigeria and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 theremin 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 Eric Copeland to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Rapeman,
Scientists,
Sixth Finger,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
E-Dancer,
Angry Samoans,
Grauzone,
Reagan Youth,
Junior Murvin,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Electric Prunes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Radio Birdman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Roger Hodgson,
Absolute Body Control,
Japan,
The Index,
The Divine Comedy,
The Red Krayola,
James White and The Blacks,
Joensuu 1685,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang of Four,
Barry Ungar,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Faust,
Wire,
Wally Richardson,
Camouflage,
Mission of Burma,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Radiopuhelimet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Robert Wyatt,
Eurythmics,
The Smiths,
The Names,
The Gories,
The Fugs,
the Germs,
The American Breed,
Black Pus,
Das Ding,
H. Thieme,
Negative Approach,
Alice Coltrane,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ohio Players,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nation of Ulysses,
Liliput,
Ludus,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lou Christie,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.