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 Japan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
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 mellotron 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 Rakim to the grunge 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Angry Samoans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barry Ungar,
Flipper,
Don Cherry,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Flag,
Radio Birdman,
Pagans,
AZ,
Gichy Dan,
Bauhaus,
U.S. Maple,
Freddie Wadling,
John Cale,
Ken Boothe,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gong,
Section 25,
The Fugs,
Lower 48,
Yazoo,
Skriet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Harmonia,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Gun Club,
The Doors,
Nik Kershaw,
The Dirtbombs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scrapy,
Letta Mbulu,
The Litter,
Althea and Donna,
Grey Daturas,
Siglo XX,
Bronski Beat,
Crooked Eye,
Television,
One Last Wish,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cure,
the Swans,
Deepchord,
Drexciya,
Scion,
New Order,
Niagra,
Glenn Branca,
the Soft Cell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Blackbyrds,
B.T. Express,
Aural Exciters,
Kerri Chandler,
Brass Construction,
Alison Limerick,
Pylon,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.