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 the UAE and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 Edmonton and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar 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 PIL to the rock 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Amon Düül,
Boredoms,
Angry Samoans,
Crooked Eye,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eric B and Rakim,
Camberwell Now,
Fluxion,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Quantec,
Cymande,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pole,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Robert Görl,
Eddi Front,
Kurtis Blow,
New Age Steppers,
Simply Red,
Minny Pops,
Bang On A Can,
Cal Tjader,
The Five Americans,
Khruangbin,
Erasure,
Dave Gahan,
Negative Approach,
The Saints,
David Bowie,
Gang of Four,
Morten Harket,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Toasters,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Moon,
X-102,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jacques Brel,
Malaria!,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Misunderstood,
Laurel Aitken,
Sällskapet,
Avey Tare,
Derrick May,
Fat Boys,
The United States of America,
The Leaves,
The Golliwogs,
Roxy Music,
Nick Fraelich,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Durutti Column,
Maurizio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Matthew Halsall,
The Blackbyrds,
The Real Kids,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Neil Young,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.