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 Benin and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Wally Richardson to the crunk 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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Monolake,
Al Stewart,
Visage,
Tim Buckley,
Laurel Aitken,
10cc,
Cameo,
Crime,
Intrusion,
Dual Sessions,
Jimmy McGriff,
Judy Mowatt,
B.T. Express,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Blancmange,
Mantronix,
Bobby Womack,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Radiohead,
Simply Red,
Skaos,
Can,
Excepter,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Erykah Badu,
Theoretical Girls,
Connie Case,
Alphaville,
Nico,
The Kinks,
The Cowsills,
Jerry's Kids,
Soft Cell,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lindisfarne,
Tomorrow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Traffic Nightmare,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tommy Roe,
This Heat,
Barrington Levy,
Sparks,
Easy Going,
Deadbeat,
DJ Sneak,
Lucky Dragons,
Kayak,
Boz Scaggs,
Minnie Riperton,
Chrome,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Seeds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Index,
Beasts of Bourbon,
PIL,
Hardrive,
John Lydon,
The Monks,
Pagans,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.