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 Uzbekistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Simply Red,
Black Moon,
The Raincoats,
Bluetip,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mantronix,
Desert Stars,
Al Stewart,
Hoover,
Blossom Toes,
Brick,
Index,
Goldenarms,
the Normal,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultravox,
Albert Ayler,
The Fortunes,
Brand Nubian,
T.S.O.L.,
Aural Exciters,
The Sonics,
Outsiders,
Stetsasonic,
Youth Brigade,
Swell Maps,
R.M.O.,
Gastr Del Sol,
F. McDonald,
Ronan,
Zero Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
Prince Buster,
Nick Fraelich,
Subhumans,
Khruangbin,
The Seeds,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kerri Chandler,
Oblivians,
The Trojans,
Letta Mbulu,
Negative Approach,
T. Rex,
Reagan Youth,
Panda Bear,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Schoolly D,
The Monochrome Set,
John Coltrane,
Livin' Joy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Associates,
the Germs,
New Age Steppers,
Cheater Slicks,
Swans,
Sixth Finger,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Theoretical Girls,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.