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 Lyon.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 Loose Ends to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
The Birthday Party,
Gregory Isaacs,
Au Pairs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Quando Quango,
Mantronix,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cameo,
Dual Sessions,
Nico,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Robert Görl,
Average White Band,
The Fuzztones,
Sällskapet,
Thompson Twins,
Tears for Fears,
Das Ding,
Matthew Halsall,
Kaleidoscope,
Cecil Taylor,
Althea and Donna,
The Index,
Reuben Wilson,
The Misunderstood,
Faraquet,
Moss Icon,
CMW,
Thee Headcoats,
Pierre Henry,
The Residents,
Frankie Knuckles,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Moody Blues,
Byron Stingily,
Jeff Mills,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Skatalites,
Heaven 17,
X-Ray Spex,
Roy Ayers,
Bobby Sherman,
Depeche Mode,
Erasure,
Reagan Youth,
Drexciya,
Anthony Braxton,
Inner City,
Bill Wells,
Lindisfarne,
Laurel Aitken,
The Martian,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sixth Finger,
Lungfish,
Bauhaus,
The Doors,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.