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 El Salvador and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the punk 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Hot Snakes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Arcadia,
Al Stewart,
Fatback Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tomorrow,
New Order,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Happenings,
Metal Thangz,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Young Rascals,
The Mighty Diamonds,
K-Klass,
Harmonia,
Robert Görl,
Dawn Penn,
Panda Bear,
Ossler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Drexciya,
Ponytail,
Fluxion,
Eurythmics,
Rapeman,
Porter Ricks,
Eve St. Jones,
Unwound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Albert Ayler,
Graham Central Station,
B.T. Express,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sonic Youth,
Robert Wyatt,
Livin' Joy,
Soul II Soul,
Pagans,
The Electric Prunes,
Donny Hathaway,
Intrusion,
Liliput,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Durutti Column,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nation of Ulysses,
Moebius,
Average White Band,
Altered Images,
Chrome,
Animal Collective,
Stiv Bators,
The Fugs,
Barrington Levy,
Jawbox,
Sister Nancy,
Thee Headcoats,
EPMD,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.