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 Singapore and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Holger Czukay 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 Joy Division to the grunge 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marmalade,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minutemen,
Amazonics,
Groovy Waters,
Malaria!,
Neil Young,
Iggy Pop,
Gang of Four,
Magma,
Rhythm & Sound,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare,
The Detroit Cobras,
Al Stewart,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tears for Fears,
Maleditus Sound,
Skarface,
Eric Copeland,
The Smoke,
Country Teasers,
Stereo Dub,
Liliput,
The Black Dice,
Amon Düül,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Oneida,
Gong,
The Gun Club,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lightning Bolt,
Warsaw,
Ice-T,
Alton Ellis,
Second Layer,
Terry Callier,
Theoretical Girls,
Morten Harket,
Massinfluence,
the Human League,
48th St. Collective,
Alice Coltrane,
Bronski Beat,
The Gories,
Sun Ra,
Arab on Radar,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Slave,
Visage,
Essential Logic,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Derrick May,
F. McDonald,
the Sonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Remains,
Ultra Naté,
Wally Richardson,
Average White Band,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.