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 Afghanistan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the funk 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Brick,
Excepter,
Peter & Gordon,
The Remains,
Mars,
The Fire Engines,
Magazine,
Black Bananas,
Barclay James Harvest,
Siglo XX,
Pet Shop Boys,
Agent Orange,
Todd Terry,
The Happenings,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lakeside,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flash Fearless,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kas Product,
Yellowson,
Black Pus,
Marvin Gaye,
Jeff Lynne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Urselle,
Das Ding,
Bill Near,
Cluster,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Stetsasonic,
Echospace,
Japan,
Sonic Youth,
Young Marble Giants,
The Gladiators,
Little Man,
Bill Wells,
Sällskapet,
The Modern Lovers,
the Bar-Kays,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Selecter,
Hardrive,
Aural Exciters,
Kurtis Blow,
U.S. Maple,
Dual Sessions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Anthony Braxton,
Camberwell Now,
The Saints,
Average White Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Human League,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.