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 Somalia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Joe Finger to the rock 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Massinfluence,
10cc,
Piero Umiliani,
The Birthday Party,
Mad Mike,
Severed Heads,
Dead Boys,
This Heat,
Derrick Morgan,
The Techniques,
Jeff Lynne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Smiths,
Mark Hollis,
X-Ray Spex,
the Slits,
Pussy Galore,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ice-T,
Black Sheep,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Deepchord,
Robert Wyatt,
Minutemen,
Roger Hodgson,
Moebius,
Jerry's Kids,
The Move,
China Crisis,
Sun City Girls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Martian,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ossler,
Flipper,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Warren Ellis,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eric B and Rakim,
MDC,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jawbox,
Whodini,
Ken Boothe,
ABBA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Derrick May,
Lakeside,
Rapeman,
The Velvet Underground,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nas,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Masters at Work,
New Order,
Soulsonic Force,
The Mojo Men,
the Sonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.