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 Eritrea and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
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 sitar 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 Bob Dylan to the rock 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
PIL,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Connie Case,
Piero Umiliani,
X-101,
Ossler,
Jandek,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
kango's stein massive,
Marc Almond,
Sarah Menescal,
The Wake,
Little Man,
Quantec,
Yazoo,
Eddi Front,
Eric Copeland,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Swans,
Crime,
Throbbing Gristle,
Byron Stingily,
Flipper,
The Slackers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Franke,
Pantytec,
Model 500,
Frankie Knuckles,
New York Dolls,
Kerri Chandler,
Moss Icon,
The Victims,
Average White Band,
Roxette,
Lakeside,
Rotary Connection,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pagans,
The Moody Blues,
Duran Duran,
Arab on Radar,
Eric Dolphy,
Aswad,
ABBA,
The Skatalites,
The Moleskins,
Television Personalities,
Bobby Sherman,
Agent Orange,
Cymande,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Andrew Hill,
The Fuzztones,
Youth Brigade,
the Fania All-Stars,
JFA,
Von Mondo,
Alison Limerick,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.