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 Congo and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro 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 Quando Quango to the techno 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
John Foxx,
Kas Product,
Piero Umiliani,
The Smiths,
Rites of Spring,
Andrew Hill,
Boz Scaggs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Royal Trux,
Sällskapet,
Trumans Water,
The Doors,
Hasil Adkins,
Wings,
Robert Görl,
DJ Style,
Audionom,
Vladislav Delay,
Symarip,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cramps,
The Cure,
Skaos,
Derrick May,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mission of Burma,
Glenn Branca,
EPMD,
Bauhaus,
Adolescents,
Television Personalities,
Gichy Dan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crispy Ambulance,
Yaz,
Rosa Yemen,
The Music Machine,
Laurel Aitken,
Dead Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
Intrusion,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Blues Magoos,
DNA,
Altered Images,
Severed Heads,
Connie Case,
Rod Modell,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tomorrow,
Harry Pussy,
Anthony Braxton,
The Five Americans,
Morten Harket,
Roger Hodgson,
Iggy Pop,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.