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 Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 the Germs to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
F. McDonald,
Ronan,
Niagra,
Lalann,
Gabor Szabo,
Goldenarms,
Darondo,
The Modern Lovers,
Joyce Sims,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gerry Rafferty,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fugs,
Tomorrow,
Reagan Youth,
Gong,
the Soft Cell,
Crispy Ambulance,
Amazonics,
Blake Baxter,
Boredoms,
John Coltrane,
Jawbox,
Robert Wyatt,
Warsaw,
Ituana,
Althea and Donna,
Eli Mardock,
Monks,
Porter Ricks,
a-ha,
Rod Modell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Excepter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Livin' Joy,
John Foxx,
Model 500,
Little Man,
Aural Exciters,
Joe Smooth,
Gang Green,
Vladislav Delay,
Ornette Coleman,
Pole,
Can,
Tommy Roe,
Eric Copeland,
Traffic Nightmare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bob Dylan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Faraquet,
the Human League,
Brand Nubian,
Bootsy Collins,
Deadbeat,
Rapeman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.