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 Suriname and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 L. Decosne 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Crooked Eye,
Dual Sessions,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobby Sherman,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lyres,
the Soft Cell,
Freddie Wadling,
Swans,
X-101,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mission of Burma,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Section 25,
Slave,
Scratch Acid,
Country Teasers,
Fugazi,
Nirvana,
Traffic Nightmare,
Newcleus,
Sixth Finger,
The Fall,
Flamin' Groovies,
OOIOO,
Cameo,
Joensuu 1685,
La Düsseldorf,
Magazine,
The Fugs,
Average White Band,
Idris Muhammad,
The Wake,
Procol Harum,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fortunes,
The Knickerbockers,
Half Japanese,
Index,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Remains,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Skriet,
Johnny Clarke,
Jeru the Damaja,
Oneida,
Masters at Work,
Patti Smith,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eve St. Jones,
Liliput,
Erasure,
Andrew Hill,
The Birthday Party,
Roxy Music,
Robert Görl,
Lungfish,
Deakin,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.