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 Slovakia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Suicide to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
The American Breed,
The Tremeloes,
Joyce Sims,
Pantaleimon,
Darondo,
The Happenings,
Eurythmics,
Maleditus Sound,
The Residents,
Soulsonic Force,
Trumans Water,
The Slits,
The Knickerbockers,
Technova,
Monks,
Excepter,
The Cowsills,
The Monochrome Set,
Can,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sight & Sound,
Bronski Beat,
Dave Gahan,
Duran Duran,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Prince Buster,
Icehouse,
Loose Ends,
The Music Machine,
Blossom Toes,
Robert Görl,
Grey Daturas,
Ultravox,
Harmonia,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cymande,
Barry Ungar,
Idris Muhammad,
Zapp,
Theoretical Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
Rufus Thomas,
X-Ray Spex,
Sonny Sharrock,
Faraquet,
Goldenarms,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lalann,
Pussy Galore,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Unwound,
Lucky Dragons,
The Five Americans,
Half Japanese,
Pantytec,
T. Rex,
Black Bananas,
The Victims,
Schoolly D,
The J.B.'s,
The Last Poets,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.