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 Syria and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer 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 8 Eyed Spy to the disco 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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Freddie Wadling,
Bauhaus,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Human League,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yellowson,
Aswad,
Loose Ends,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Q and Not U,
The Durutti Column,
The Modern Lovers,
Index,
The Index,
a-ha,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Stetsasonic,
The Tremeloes,
Alphaville,
The Remains,
Reagan Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eli Mardock,
Terry Callier,
Minutemen,
Alton Ellis,
Wire,
Ice-T,
Talk Talk,
Eric B and Rakim,
Interpol,
Charles Mingus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Altered Images,
the Sonics,
Das Ding,
Pantaleimon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Neon Judgement,
Nils Olav,
Barrington Levy,
The Last Poets,
David McCallum,
the Bar-Kays,
Bush Tetras,
the Normal,
Bill Near,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Golliwogs,
Schoolly D,
Black Moon,
The J.B.'s,
Lyres,
Television,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.