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 South Africa and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 L. Decosne to the dance 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Howard Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dirtbombs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scott Walker,
The Grass Roots,
Ronan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Soul II Soul,
H. Thieme,
Steve Hackett,
Stockholm Monsters,
Talk Talk,
John Coltrane,
Fugazi,
The Fire Engines,
Franke,
Eve St. Jones,
June of 44,
Matthew Halsall,
The Skatalites,
Television,
Nils Olav,
Blancmange,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soft Machine,
Yazoo,
U.S. Maple,
The Music Machine,
Skaos,
Easy Going,
Robert Wyatt,
Bob Dylan,
The Last Poets,
World's Most,
A Certain Ratio,
Fatback Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Aloha Tigers,
Nas,
The Raincoats,
Curtis Mayfield,
China Crisis,
the Sonics,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eurythmics,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camouflage,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fluxion,
Harmonia,
Charles Mingus,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kayak,
The Index,
Derrick Morgan,
DJ Sneak,
Jawbox,
Delta 5,
The Motions,
Sex Pistols,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.