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 Ghana and from Woodstock.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe 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 June of 44 to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Mr. Review,
Talk Talk,
Sparks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Charles Mingus,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jacob Miller,
Traffic Nightmare,
Alphaville,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Dead C,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Saints,
Yazoo,
Judy Mowatt,
Model 500,
Colin Newman,
Unrelated Segments,
Hashim,
Connie Case,
Alison Limerick,
Au Pairs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Girls At Our Best!,
Crash Course in Science,
Laurel Aitken,
Michelle Simonal,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pussy Galore,
AZ,
Sällskapet,
Sight & Sound,
Inner City,
Lucky Dragons,
CMW,
John Foxx,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Thee Headcoats,
The Last Poets,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mantronix,
Funky Four + One,
Yaz,
The Blues Magoos,
Ossler,
FM Einheit,
Yusef Lateef,
Beasts of Bourbon,
K-Klass,
Barrington Levy,
Susan Cadogan,
The Monks,
Dave Gahan,
Moss Icon,
the Slits,
Reuben Wilson,
Wally Richardson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nation of Ulysses,
Chris Corsano,
Amon Düül II,
Godley & Creme,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.