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 South Sudan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Angels of Light to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Ten City,
E-Dancer,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Monks,
the Normal,
Unrelated Segments,
Adolescents,
Harmonia,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kerrie Biddell,
The J.B.'s,
Second Layer,
The New Christs,
Joe Smooth,
Soft Machine,
Camberwell Now,
Glenn Branca,
Mark Hollis,
Rekid,
Marshall Jefferson,
Audionom,
New Order,
Livin' Joy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joensuu 1685,
Barbara Tucker,
Sällskapet,
Patti Smith,
The Blues Magoos,
The Leaves,
Lightning Bolt,
Delta 5,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
T. Rex,
The Gladiators,
Niagra,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wally Richardson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Absolute Body Control,
Easy Going,
Vladislav Delay,
Television,
Jerry's Kids,
In Retrospect,
Dead Boys,
Mantronix,
Camouflage,
Newcleus,
Rites of Spring,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Human League,
June of 44,
The Mojo Men,
F. McDonald,
Essential Logic,
Connie Case,
Bill Near,
Lebanon Hanover,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.