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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pere Ubu 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Sällskapet,
Archie Shepp,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Desert Stars,
Blake Baxter,
Buzzcocks,
The Selecter,
Angry Samoans,
The Techniques,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joe Smooth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aaron Thompson,
Susan Cadogan,
Grauzone,
Loose Ends,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Normal,
These Immortal Souls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eurythmics,
Juan Atkins,
The Mojo Men,
The Modern Lovers,
Anakelly,
Pylon,
kango's stein massive,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Maurizio,
The Pop Group,
Eden Ahbez,
Camouflage,
Man Parrish,
Lightning Bolt,
Leonard Cohen,
Roxy Music,
The Cure,
The Moleskins,
David Bowie,
Gang Gang Dance,
Traffic Nightmare,
Delta 5,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
T. Rex,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Andrew Hill,
Barbara Tucker,
Swell Maps,
Charles Mingus,
Rosa Yemen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scientists,
The Moody Blues,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Neon Judgement,
The Trojans,
The Seeds,
Kool Moe Dee,
PIL,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.