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 Taiwan and from Milan.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 Soft Cell to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Names. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cowsills,
Urselle,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Heaven 17,
Schoolly D,
Leonard Cohen,
Royal Trux,
Hashim,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tim Buckley,
Ken Boothe,
June Days,
Wasted Youth,
The Leaves,
The Five Americans,
the Bar-Kays,
Soft Machine,
Lightning Bolt,
Marmalade,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joyce Sims,
Glambeats Corp.,
John Coltrane,
Suburban Knight,
Groovy Waters,
Maleditus Sound,
E-Dancer,
Grey Daturas,
Model 500,
Nas,
Absolute Body Control,
Sister Nancy,
The Sonics,
Piero Umiliani,
Scion,
Adolescents,
Aaron Thompson,
Minnie Riperton,
The Slits,
Johnny Osbourne,
Procol Harum,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radio Birdman,
ABBA,
Scratch Acid,
The Offenders,
Neu!,
Lakeside,
Scrapy,
Chris Corsano,
Bronski Beat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Mummies,
Dead Boys,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lungfish,
Charles Mingus,
The Litter,
B.T. Express,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.