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 Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bremen.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Hasil Adkins to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
the Normal,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wings,
Rakim,
Magazine,
The Saints,
Trumans Water,
Sam Rivers,
Sound Behaviour,
Blake Baxter,
Electric Prunes,
Albert Ayler,
K-Klass,
Groovy Waters,
Darondo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kerrie Biddell,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pagans,
David Axelrod,
Funkadelic,
Prince Buster,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kenny Larkin,
Joy Division,
Khruangbin,
Heaven 17,
Carl Craig,
the Human League,
Lightning Bolt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Urselle,
China Crisis,
Saccharine Trust,
John Lydon,
Tres Demented,
Judy Mowatt,
The Happenings,
Grauzone,
Anakelly,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fear,
Pantaleimon,
KRS-One,
Swell Maps,
Con Funk Shun,
Ten City,
E-Dancer,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mad Mike,
Q and Not U,
The Buckinghams,
Nik Kershaw,
Fugazi,
Easy Going,
Von Mondo,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Sonics,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.