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 Kenya and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb 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 Lee Hazlewood 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Dirtbombs,
The Selecter,
FM Einheit,
Brand Nubian,
Morten Harket,
Brothers Johnson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eden Ahbez,
Y Pants,
The Red Krayola,
The Gories,
Glenn Branca,
The Names,
Ludus,
Joy Division,
Crime,
Boz Scaggs,
Alphaville,
the Association,
Al Stewart,
Erasure,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wire,
Gichy Dan,
Barbara Tucker,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Moon,
Ice-T,
The Searchers,
Oneida,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Thompson Twins,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rufus Thomas,
Soft Machine,
Rod Modell,
Donald Byrd,
Dennis Brown,
Rotary Connection,
Grey Daturas,
Blancmange,
Boredoms,
Alison Limerick,
The Sound,
Nirvana,
Excepter,
The Mojo Men,
the Slits,
Ituana,
Connie Case,
Ken Boothe,
Can,
Carl Craig,
The Zeros,
JFA,
Barry Ungar,
Graham Central Station,
Con Funk Shun,
Accadde A,
Johnny Clarke,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day.
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.