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 Venezuela and from New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Motions to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Electric Prunes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Qualms,
Andrew Hill,
Mission of Burma,
Surgeon,
Television,
Jeff Mills,
Avey Tare,
Ohio Players,
This Heat,
Dawn Penn,
The Residents,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Y Pants,
Audionom,
X-Ray Spex,
The Doors,
Joe Smooth,
Barbara Tucker,
Steve Hackett,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eve St. Jones,
Robert Wyatt,
the Slits,
Ornette Coleman,
Marmalade,
The Names,
Depeche Mode,
Gang Green,
Patti Smith,
48th St. Collective,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roxette,
The Martian,
Fugazi,
Althea and Donna,
Max Romeo,
John Foxx,
The Mojo Men,
Man Parrish,
The Techniques,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Letta Mbulu,
PIL,
Chris Corsano,
John Holt,
Joe Finger,
Smog,
cv313,
Eden Ahbez,
The Black Dice,
The Toasters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Normal,
Cecil Taylor,
The Kinks,
Wally Richardson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yaz,
Nico,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.