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 Spain and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Neon Judgement to the funk 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Aswad,
EPMD,
U.S. Maple,
Funky Four + One,
the Slits,
The New Christs,
Siglo XX,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gun Club,
Boz Scaggs,
Al Stewart,
Amon Düül,
Dead Boys,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Victims,
Spoonie Gee,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Morten Harket,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
X-102,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Litter,
Von Mondo,
Talk Talk,
the Normal,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sun Ra,
Camouflage,
Kerrie Biddell,
New Age Steppers,
Davy DMX,
The Monks,
the Association,
Franke,
The Real Kids,
The Moody Blues,
Livin' Joy,
Theoretical Girls,
Intrusion,
R.M.O.,
Rekid,
Gang of Four,
X-Ray Spex,
Mark Hollis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sam Rivers,
OOIOO,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobby Byrd,
Absolute Body Control,
Wally Richardson,
June Days,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
cv313,
Roxy Music,
Country Teasers,
Archie Shepp,
Erasure,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gladiators,
Gang Green,
The Cramps,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.