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 Chile and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fraelich to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Suicide,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bauhaus,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lower 48,
Angry Samoans,
Royal Trux,
Chrome,
John Holt,
The Techniques,
Arthur Verocai,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Dead C,
Buzzcocks,
Albert Ayler,
Deadbeat,
China Crisis,
Camouflage,
Accadde A,
Rod Modell,
Flipper,
Moebius,
Patti Smith,
Spandau Ballet,
The Divine Comedy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Zapp,
Johnny Clarke,
K-Klass,
Wasted Youth,
Boredoms,
Lakeside,
Whodini,
Marine Girls,
David Bowie,
the Germs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sarah Menescal,
Erasure,
The Mojo Men,
Byron Stingily,
Pantaleimon,
Reagan Youth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The J.B.'s,
Eddi Front,
Pharoah Sanders,
Magazine,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Selecter,
Index,
ABBA,
T.S.O.L.,
Tears for Fears,
Darondo,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.