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 Seychelles and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
DNA,
Derrick Morgan,
Whodini,
One Last Wish,
Blancmange,
Das Ding,
Godley & Creme,
Newcleus,
X-Ray Spex,
UT,
Althea and Donna,
Charles Mingus,
Byron Stingily,
Deakin,
Kaleidoscope,
Magma,
Bob Dylan,
Bronski Beat,
The Index,
Deadbeat,
Aural Exciters,
Monolake,
Kenny Larkin,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Martian,
Boredoms,
The Red Krayola,
Interpol,
Skarface,
Jeff Lynne,
Eurythmics,
Unwound,
Ossler,
Al Stewart,
Ten City,
Sun Ra,
Peter and Kerry,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nils Olav,
48th St. Collective,
The Divine Comedy,
LL Cool J,
The Monochrome Set,
Henry Cow,
Jeff Mills,
Shuggie Otis,
Dark Day,
Drive Like Jehu,
China Crisis,
Echospace,
Max Romeo,
Maurizio,
Sarah Menescal,
Symarip,
Amazonics,
The Smoke,
Kas Product,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.