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 St Lucia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Soul II Soul to the punk 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Davy DMX,
Pussy Galore,
John Lydon,
The Zeros,
Brass Construction,
The Dave Clark Five,
Whodini,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eddi Front,
The Invisible,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Easy Going,
David McCallum,
Clear Light,
Freddie Wadling,
Schoolly D,
Infiniti,
The Fall,
T. Rex,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mandrill,
Mars,
Gichy Dan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Chrome,
David Bowie,
The Smoke,
Rufus Thomas,
Jerry's Kids,
Kurtis Blow,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Godley & Creme,
KRS-One,
The Modern Lovers,
The Searchers,
Lindisfarne,
Al Stewart,
Delon & Dalcan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Brothers Johnson,
Toni Rubio,
Faraquet,
Average White Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stockholm Monsters,
Newcleus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yusef Lateef,
The Cramps,
Echospace,
One Last Wish,
Can,
Hot Snakes,
The Gladiators,
Pantaleimon,
The Leaves,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Circle Jerks,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.