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 Nigeria and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ 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 Shuggie Otis to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Sun City Girls,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Henry Cow,
Sight & Sound,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
MC5,
Byron Stingily,
Average White Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Duran Duran,
The Knickerbockers,
Boz Scaggs,
Magma,
The Cure,
Guru Guru,
Unrelated Segments,
Franke,
Deadbeat,
Robert Görl,
The Tremeloes,
Joey Negro,
Frankie Knuckles,
Radio Birdman,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jeff Lynne,
Lindisfarne,
Roy Ayers,
Adolescents,
Panda Bear,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sex Pistols,
Joe Finger,
Gang of Four,
Wally Richardson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bluetip,
Rakim,
The Move,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Minor Threat,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Howard Jones,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mars,
Tropical Tobacco,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Vladislav Delay,
Eric Copeland,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Saints,
Cecil Taylor,
F. McDonald,
Stockholm Monsters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Grass Roots,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Grey Daturas,
The Names,
A Certain Ratio,
Josef K,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.