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 Bolivia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Country Teasers to the disco 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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Fall,
Traffic Nightmare,
cv313,
Johnny Osbourne,
David Bowie,
Minor Threat,
8 Eyed Spy,
Blake Baxter,
Juan Atkins,
Barrington Levy,
Bad Manners,
Slave,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Wyatt,
The Durutti Column,
Camouflage,
Pagans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gil Scott Heron,
Monolake,
The Trojans,
Neu!,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aural Exciters,
Sister Nancy,
Fluxion,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Talk Talk,
Wasted Youth,
T.S.O.L.,
Harmonia,
Franke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lindisfarne,
The Last Poets,
Davy DMX,
Faraquet,
Ornette Coleman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Hood,
The Zeros,
Lalann,
Lightning Bolt,
Danielle Patucci,
Theoretical Girls,
Glenn Branca,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yazoo,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Mummies,
Brass Construction,
The Evens,
The Real Kids,
Tres Demented,
Flipper,
Delta 5,
OOIOO,
The Searchers,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.