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 Greece and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 The American Breed to the jazz 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
The Five Americans,
Outsiders,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Real Kids,
Robert Görl,
New Order,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Index,
Oneida,
Franke,
Tres Demented,
John Holt,
The Barracudas,
Eurythmics,
Aswad,
The Gap Band,
John Foxx,
Joy Division,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Knickerbockers,
Whodini,
Fugazi,
Gong,
Roxy Music,
Echospace,
Joe Finger,
Gichy Dan,
Wolf Eyes,
Soft Machine,
Grauzone,
Jimmy McGriff,
Monolake,
Buzzcocks,
Bad Manners,
Grey Daturas,
The Blues Magoos,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mary Jane Girls,
Neil Young,
Crispian St. Peters,
Laurel Aitken,
The Move,
Eddi Front,
Fifty Foot Hose,
ABC,
The Doors,
Goldenarms,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
June Days,
ABBA,
The Residents,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sonics,
Dark Day,
Byron Stingily,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pulsallama,
Leonard Cohen,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.