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 United Kingdom and from Philadelphia.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Buckinghams to the grunge 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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Scratch Acid,
Procol Harum,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mars,
Gong,
The Birthday Party,
Johnny Osbourne,
Qualms,
Television,
Lalann,
D'Angelo,
Todd Terry,
The Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sam Rivers,
Pantaleimon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Robert Wyatt,
kango's stein massive,
Eric Copeland,
The Invisible,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gang Gang Dance,
New Age Steppers,
Peter & Gordon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kayak,
The Skatalites,
Charles Mingus,
cv313,
Grey Daturas,
Underground Resistance,
Al Stewart,
H. Thieme,
The Mighty Diamonds,
John Lydon,
The Gap Band,
New Order,
The Slits,
Susan Cadogan,
Hardrive,
F. McDonald,
Visage,
The Doors,
Sixth Finger,
Ronnie Foster,
Alison Limerick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Unwound,
U.S. Maple,
World's Most,
Vladislav Delay,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Pus,
Model 500,
Zero Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
Masters at Work,
X-102,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.