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 Belarus and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 K-Klass to the electroclash 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Ice-T,
Livin' Joy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
R.M.O.,
KRS-One,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dorothy Ashby,
Peter & Gordon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stockholm Monsters,
Josef K,
T. Rex,
Oblivians,
Donald Byrd,
New Order,
Jawbox,
The Zeros,
The Smiths,
Inner City,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Don Cherry,
cv313,
John Cale,
Au Pairs,
Television,
Minnie Riperton,
Fear,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sparks,
Ten City,
Joey Negro,
The Real Kids,
Ultravox,
Tubeway Army,
Camberwell Now,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Al Stewart,
Unrelated Segments,
Todd Rundgren,
Monks,
Cluster,
The Flesh Eaters,
Erykah Badu,
Man Eating Sloth,
David Axelrod,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Franke,
Jimmy McGriff,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Dead C,
Sun City Girls,
Minor Threat,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Shuggie Otis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.