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 Chile and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 David Bowie to the dance 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
Dennis Brown,
U.S. Maple,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Albert Ayler,
Deakin,
This Heat,
Harmonia,
Arab on Radar,
The Cure,
R.M.O.,
Gang Gang Dance,
Slick Rick,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jawbox,
Connie Case,
Alphaville,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mars,
These Immortal Souls,
Barry Ungar,
Amazonics,
Leonard Cohen,
Rekid,
Bill Near,
Pole,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Vladislav Delay,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Guru Guru,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Isaac Hayes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bluetip,
Bobby Womack,
Alton Ellis,
Roy Ayers,
Wasted Youth,
Boz Scaggs,
Fear,
Au Pairs,
New Order,
The Barracudas,
Zero Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Panda Bear,
Qualms,
Smog,
Rhythm & Sound,
Charles Mingus,
Peter and Kerry,
the Normal,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Grauzone,
The Kinks,
Joyce Sims,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Anthony Braxton,
Buzzcocks,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.