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 El Salvador and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 Jeff Mills to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
AZ,
The Fuzztones,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Machine,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Loose Ends,
Sight & Sound,
The Mojo Men,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tubeway Army,
Soul II Soul,
Yazoo,
Sister Nancy,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fugs,
The Slits,
Scan 7,
Jacob Miller,
Glenn Branca,
Monks,
Matthew Bourne,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ornette Coleman,
Arcadia,
Technova,
The Blackbyrds,
Nas,
Magazine,
Moss Icon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Trojans,
Interpol,
the Sonics,
Cluster,
The Pop Group,
Buzzcocks,
Arab on Radar,
Magma,
John Holt,
Procol Harum,
Chris & Cosey,
Lower 48,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
James White and The Blacks,
Aaron Thompson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Durutti Column,
Sugar Minott,
Thompson Twins,
The Detroit Cobras,
Slick Rick,
LL Cool J,
The Slackers,
Tomorrow,
The Selecter,
The Fall,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.