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 Congo and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe 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 Flesh Eaters to the rock 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Second Layer,
Bobby Byrd,
The Index,
Bauhaus,
Barbara Tucker,
The Saints,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
John Coltrane,
ABBA,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Amazonics,
Ken Boothe,
Television,
Little Man,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gabor Szabo,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Pop Group,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ronan,
Moebius,
the Slits,
Roger Hodgson,
Altered Images,
The New Christs,
Masters at Work,
New York Dolls,
Minutemen,
Average White Band,
a-ha,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pantytec,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harry Pussy,
Brand Nubian,
Lightning Bolt,
The Modern Lovers,
K-Klass,
The Neon Judgement,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marc Almond,
Rotary Connection,
Aural Exciters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Laurel Aitken,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Sherman,
Thee Headcoats,
Supertramp,
The Doobie Brothers,
Freddie Wadling,
New Age Steppers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Human League,
Q65,
Slick Rick,
The Names,
Yellowson,
Bobby Womack,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.