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 Honduras and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Tim Buckley to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Yaz,
Outsiders,
Nas,
Depeche Mode,
Neu!,
Metal Thangz,
Pere Ubu,
The Names,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rakim,
Babytalk,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Black Dice,
The Martian,
Black Bananas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Remains,
Delon & Dalcan,
Adolescents,
Bronski Beat,
The Sound,
Althea and Donna,
Duran Duran,
Q and Not U,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Negative Approach,
Mission of Burma,
U.S. Maple,
Peter & Gordon,
Pulsallama,
Jeff Lynne,
Franke,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Misunderstood,
The Moody Blues,
Crispian St. Peters,
DJ Sneak,
Tres Demented,
Amon Düül,
Jesper Dahlback,
Danielle Patucci,
Organ,
Morten Harket,
Idris Muhammad,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
June Days,
Reuben Wilson,
The New Christs,
Moebius,
Jandek,
David Bowie,
Kerrie Biddell,
Blancmange,
E-Dancer,
New York Dolls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Man Parrish,
Zapp,
Sight & Sound,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.