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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar 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 The Angels of Light to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Faust,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Buckinghams,
Dennis Brown,
Freddie Wadling,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Urselle,
The Skatalites,
Procol Harum,
New York Dolls,
Motorama,
Hardrive,
Ralphi Rosario,
DJ Sneak,
The Fuzztones,
K-Klass,
Metal Thangz,
The Golliwogs,
Nils Olav,
Hoover,
Aural Exciters,
Lyres,
Funkadelic,
Jeff Lynne,
Desert Stars,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang Green,
Marvin Gaye,
Johnny Clarke,
Rites of Spring,
Jeff Mills,
Cecil Taylor,
Fugazi,
Zero Boys,
the Sonics,
Faraquet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Symarip,
a-ha,
Steve Hackett,
Alton Ellis,
Pussy Galore,
Banda Bassotti,
T. Rex,
Lungfish,
The Divine Comedy,
The Count Five,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mo-Dettes,
Youth Brigade,
Make Up,
The Selecter,
Althea and Donna,
Janne Schatter,
Second Layer,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The American Breed,
Marshall Jefferson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.