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 Honduras and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Outsiders to the dance 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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Audionom record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roger Hodgson,
Joey Negro,
Mad Mike,
Lou Christie,
Graham Central Station,
Warsaw,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Charles Mingus,
Patti Smith,
Popol Vuh,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roxette,
Adolescents,
New Order,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Gladiators,
Bush Tetras,
Ossler,
Organ,
Fear,
Deadbeat,
Scott Walker,
Black Bananas,
Susan Cadogan,
The Vogues,
Trumans Water,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Spoonie Gee,
Maurizio,
Man Parrish,
The Angels of Light,
Q65,
Andrew Hill,
the Swans,
Interpol,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultravox,
Unrelated Segments,
The Evens,
The Birthday Party,
Erykah Badu,
The Invisible,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Au Pairs,
The Beau Brummels,
Sugar Minott,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nico,
Faraquet,
Deepchord,
One Last Wish,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wolf Eyes,
Jeff Lynne,
Ronan,
Colin Newman,
Neu!,
Y Pants,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.