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 Lagos.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lalann to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Soft Cell,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Matthew Bourne,
The Sound,
Crash Course in Science,
Theoretical Girls,
The Smiths,
Malaria!,
X-Ray Spex,
Sexual Harrassment,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Girls At Our Best!,
Talk Talk,
Joe Finger,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hasil Adkins,
Camouflage,
Rites of Spring,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Piero Umiliani,
Babytalk,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pylon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Misunderstood,
Pussy Galore,
Yaz,
Aswad,
Camberwell Now,
Mars,
Gabor Szabo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Outsiders,
Cal Tjader,
Don Cherry,
Funkadelic,
Sex Pistols,
The Smoke,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rapeman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Matthew Halsall,
Leonard Cohen,
Ossler,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sällskapet,
Carl Craig,
The Golliwogs,
David Axelrod,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Slackers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sonics,
Wolf Eyes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
a-ha,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.