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 Armenia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Ohio Players to the techno 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
The Electric Prunes,
Mr. Review,
a-ha,
The Busters,
The Buckinghams,
Mad Mike,
Marc Almond,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Walker Brothers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
John Coltrane,
Television Personalities,
Royal Trux,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Move,
Quadrant,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Monks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Rosa Yemen,
The Beau Brummels,
Barbara Tucker,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Piero Umiliani,
Los Fastidios,
Interpol,
Sound Behaviour,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Names,
Lalo Schifrin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Stetsasonic,
Alton Ellis,
The Sound,
Symarip,
Vladislav Delay,
Porter Ricks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Neil Young,
Scion,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Minnie Riperton,
The Five Americans,
Harmonia,
The Pretty Things,
The Dirtbombs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eddi Front,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Faraquet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Procol Harum,
Amon Düül II,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.