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 Taiwan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Erykah Badu to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Malaria!,
Alison Limerick,
Jeff Lynne,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Letta Mbulu,
Aaron Thompson,
Rapeman,
Desert Stars,
Adolescents,
Ronan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scott Walker,
Jacques Brel,
Crispy Ambulance,
Das Ding,
KRS-One,
The Leaves,
the Germs,
The United States of America,
Sugar Minott,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rosa Yemen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sällskapet,
Tommy Roe,
Interpol,
DJ Sneak,
Cluster,
Bauhaus,
Ultimate Spinach,
Maurizio,
The Slits,
Depeche Mode,
The Pop Group,
Metal Thangz,
Boredoms,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Standells,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Dead C,
Hot Snakes,
The Real Kids,
This Heat,
Pet Shop Boys,
Crooked Eye,
The Kinks,
The Zeros,
Cameo,
Henry Cow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sarah Menescal,
Yazoo,
Black Sheep,
Eddi Front,
Don Cherry,
T. Rex,
Public Enemy,
Mo-Dettes,
Scratch Acid,
Quando Quango,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo.
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.