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 Equatorial Guinea and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 New York Dolls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron 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 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?
Depeche Mode,
Trumans Water,
Ituana,
Tommy Roe,
Mars,
Michelle Simonal,
Basic Channel,
Eric Dolphy,
Ultravox,
Jesper Dahlback,
Maurizio,
John Lydon,
Roy Ayers,
The Modern Lovers,
the Swans,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dirtbombs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Derrick Morgan,
Funkadelic,
Masters at Work,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Invisible,
Sandy B,
Minutemen,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lucky Dragons,
David Bowie,
Pantytec,
Isaac Hayes,
Make Up,
Oneida,
Porter Ricks,
Robert Hood,
The Golliwogs,
The Index,
Jeff Lynne,
Josef K,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wally Richardson,
James White and The Blacks,
Livin' Joy,
Ohio Players,
Jerry Gold Smith,
kango's stein massive,
Gang of Four,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Cale,
Mr. Review,
Kayak,
Dark Day,
Joensuu 1685,
Davy DMX,
JFA,
Absolute Body Control,
Bad Manners,
Fluxion,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Womack,
Barrington Levy,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.