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 Spain and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Whodini 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
MDC,
The Mummies,
Half Japanese,
The United States of America,
Vainqueur,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Josef K,
Simply Red,
Mark Hollis,
T.S.O.L.,
Sarah Menescal,
Kerrie Biddell,
Skarface,
Moby Grape,
The Kinks,
The Gap Band,
FM Einheit,
the Bar-Kays,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sixth Finger,
Morten Harket,
Roy Ayers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gichy Dan,
Bauhaus,
Camberwell Now,
Nirvana,
Rekid,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deepchord,
Icehouse,
Stockholm Monsters,
Basic Channel,
Delon & Dalcan,
June Days,
Talk Talk,
X-102,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cure,
KRS-One,
Pussy Galore,
Derrick Morgan,
Warren Ellis,
Kurtis Blow,
Gong,
Trumans Water,
Hot Snakes,
Guru Guru,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Symarip,
Rites of Spring,
Agent Orange,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harry Pussy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Terrestrial Tones,
DJ Style,
Jeru the Damaja,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.