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 Sri Lanka and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Trumans Water,
Minutemen,
Inner City,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Dead C,
AZ,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Moody Blues,
Cameo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Outsiders,
The Birthday Party,
Sly & The Family Stone,
A Certain Ratio,
The Human League,
Crooked Eye,
Talk Talk,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bill Wells,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crispian St. Peters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pagans,
Sonic Youth,
Suburban Knight,
Barclay James Harvest,
Section 25,
Accadde A,
Black Pus,
Ornette Coleman,
The Slackers,
The Music Machine,
The Gap Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
This Heat,
U.S. Maple,
Soulsonic Force,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Star Department,
John Lydon,
Pantaleimon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Freddie Wadling,
Procol Harum,
Grey Daturas,
Stetsasonic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Magazine,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Gories,
Reagan Youth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Public Image Ltd.,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tubeway Army,
Eric Dolphy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Beau Brummels,
Japan,
Lindisfarne,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.