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 Uruguay and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 June of 44 to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Gabor Szabo,
Radio Birdman,
Tears for Fears,
The Electric Prunes,
Jacob Miller,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lou Christie,
Eurythmics,
Pantaleimon,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Flesh Eaters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Faust,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Boz Scaggs,
Ronnie Foster,
Sex Pistols,
Model 500,
Arthur Verocai,
Kaleidoscope,
The Blues Magoos,
The Mummies,
Royal Trux,
Barrington Levy,
Pagans,
Banda Bassotti,
Terrestrial Tones,
Shuggie Otis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Janne Schatter,
Hot Snakes,
Symarip,
Jimmy McGriff,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marine Girls,
Susan Cadogan,
Half Japanese,
The Toasters,
Delta 5,
Nik Kershaw,
Cal Tjader,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Dave Clark Five,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Anakelly,
Ten City,
Bill Wells,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Piero Umiliani,
Toni Rubio,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dennis Brown,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
June Days,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
48th St. Collective,
Brick,
Kurtis Blow,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.