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 Jamaica and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sixth Finger to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index 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?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Vogues,
Pagans,
Yazoo,
Shoche,
The Searchers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
MDC,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
World's Most,
Danielle Patucci,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jacob Miller,
Vainqueur,
Excepter,
Graham Central Station,
Sight & Sound,
The Durutti Column,
Camouflage,
The Knickerbockers,
Technova,
Scan 7,
Aaron Thompson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Flipper,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Music Machine,
Joyce Sims,
The Five Americans,
The Real Kids,
Mr. Review,
Toni Rubio,
Junior Murvin,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scrapy,
Tres Demented,
New York Dolls,
Radio Birdman,
Peter and Kerry,
Warsaw,
Jimmy McGriff,
Monolake,
Todd Terry,
Aswad,
Alphaville,
Lalo Schifrin,
The American Breed,
Roger Hodgson,
Magma,
Harmonia,
Panda Bear,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ossler,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ronan,
the Normal,
The Human League,
Can,
The Techniques,
Soft Machine,
the Sonics,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.