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 Denmark and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 Manila and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sonny Sharrock to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Newcleus,
Gichy Dan,
Sex Pistols,
The Real Kids,
the Germs,
Monks,
Black Sheep,
JFA,
World's Most,
Minor Threat,
Robert Görl,
Alice Coltrane,
a-ha,
Crash Course in Science,
John Foxx,
The Sound,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mars,
Alton Ellis,
Donny Hathaway,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Goldenarms,
Zapp,
The Dirtbombs,
Q and Not U,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wasted Youth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cal Tjader,
Lower 48,
Whodini,
The Electric Prunes,
Simply Red,
Jeff Mills,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Graham Central Station,
the Soft Cell,
The Techniques,
Chrome,
Wire,
Kayak,
Basic Channel,
Wolf Eyes,
Intrusion,
Khruangbin,
Funky Four + One,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ornette Coleman,
Minny Pops,
Freddie Wadling,
Nik Kershaw,
Glambeats Corp.,
Boredoms,
Hoover,
Soul II Soul,
The Saints,
E-Dancer,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.