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 Zimbabwe and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 48th St. Collective to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Moss Icon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mo-Dettes,
ABBA,
Index,
T. Rex,
F. McDonald,
Skaos,
The Barracudas,
Scan 7,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Skarface,
Angry Samoans,
Accadde A,
Wire,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Animal Collective,
Mandrill,
Sällskapet,
Groovy Waters,
Chrome,
cv313,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Monks,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Stooges,
Magazine,
Terry Callier,
Interpol,
Inner City,
Boz Scaggs,
Duran Duran,
Can,
JFA,
Procol Harum,
Byron Stingily,
Amazonics,
Y Pants,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Vogues,
Aaron Thompson,
Lou Christie,
Alice Coltrane,
Blancmange,
The American Breed,
Blossom Toes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harmonia,
Gabor Szabo,
Echospace,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Doors,
Camouflage,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marc Almond,
The Gun Club,
Joy Division,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nik Kershaw,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.