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 Ukraine and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the disco 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 Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Gun Club,
The Zeros,
Saccharine Trust,
Mandrill,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Severed Heads,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rod Modell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Depeche Mode,
Camberwell Now,
Minor Threat,
Kayak,
Terry Callier,
Neu!,
John Lydon,
The Modern Lovers,
Sugar Minott,
Prince Buster,
The Shadows of Knight,
Electric Prunes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Suburban Knight,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jawbox,
Sam Rivers,
DJ Style,
ABBA,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Sherman,
Pylon,
Youth Brigade,
Von Mondo,
June of 44,
Godley & Creme,
Sonic Youth,
Nils Olav,
Television Personalities,
Marc Almond,
Laurel Aitken,
Marine Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Don Cherry,
Das Ding,
The Raincoats,
Glenn Branca,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dead Boys,
Joey Negro,
Mark Hollis,
Pussy Galore,
Newcleus,
The Fortunes,
Shuggie Otis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Traffic Nightmare,
Monks,
Mr. Review,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.