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 Portugal and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 John Coltrane to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soulsonic Force,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Toasters,
Wasted Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Yaz,
The Remains,
The Slits,
Visage,
Camouflage,
Eurythmics,
Wally Richardson,
Pulsallama,
ABBA,
Joe Finger,
June of 44,
JFA,
Jandek,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crispy Ambulance,
One Last Wish,
Electric Prunes,
The Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Brothers Johnson,
The Doors,
The Sound,
Simply Red,
Scrapy,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Blues Magoos,
Girls At Our Best!,
Henry Cow,
Juan Atkins,
The Wake,
Mantronix,
Joyce Sims,
The Star Department,
Roxy Music,
Vainqueur,
Bobby Byrd,
Eden Ahbez,
The Monochrome Set,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Chris Corsano,
K-Klass,
Albert Ayler,
The Count Five,
The New Christs,
the Bar-Kays,
Hot Snakes,
The Last Poets,
Idris Muhammad,
The Dead C,
Scion,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Fuzztones,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.