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 Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Thompson Twins to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Cluster,
Black Bananas,
Bizarre Inc.,
David Axelrod,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scientists,
Cameo,
The Smoke,
kango's stein massive,
Bobby Sherman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kaleidoscope,
Aswad,
The Black Dice,
Ituana,
New Order,
Severed Heads,
The Gun Club,
Crash Course in Science,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Unwound,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Country Teasers,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Certain Ratio,
Ten City,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Moby Grape,
The Modern Lovers,
Derrick Morgan,
Neu!,
Sight & Sound,
Ossler,
Ice-T,
The Gories,
Stetsasonic,
The Mummies,
Harpers Bizarre,
Letta Mbulu,
Pharoah Sanders,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Techniques,
Ponytail,
Von Mondo,
the Germs,
Parry Music,
The Electric Prunes,
KRS-One,
Sound Behaviour,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gang of Four,
Skaos,
Gerry Rafferty,
Half Japanese,
Flash Fearless,
Rotary Connection,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.