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 Czech Republic and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 synthesizer 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 Stereo Dub to the disco 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Human League,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Yazoo,
Anthony Braxton,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Womack,
New Order,
The Gun Club,
The Victims,
Grey Daturas,
Minnie Riperton,
These Immortal Souls,
Gong,
Brick,
Brand Nubian,
Kayak,
Ituana,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
La Düsseldorf,
Absolute Body Control,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Radio Birdman,
The Sound,
the Normal,
The Wake,
Kurtis Blow,
Oneida,
The Count Five,
In Retrospect,
Flamin' Groovies,
Terry Callier,
Pantytec,
Panda Bear,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bronski Beat,
Fela Kuti,
ABC,
Darondo,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bill Near,
Cybotron,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Susan Cadogan,
Aural Exciters,
Lightning Bolt,
L. Decosne,
FM Einheit,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
World's Most,
David Bowie,
Hardrive,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marmalade,
Smog,
Surgeon,
Con Funk Shun,
Supertramp,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.