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 Cameroon and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mumbai.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar 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 Bush Tetras 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 The Doors. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron 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 rap 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Funky Four + One,
June Days,
Erykah Badu,
Ronnie Foster,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Saints,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Music Machine,
Fela Kuti,
Talk Talk,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Roger Hodgson,
X-Ray Spex,
Suburban Knight,
Eden Ahbez,
Amon Düül,
The Mummies,
Theoretical Girls,
Oblivians,
Morten Harket,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sam Rivers,
cv313,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Maleditus Sound,
Sister Nancy,
Severed Heads,
8 Eyed Spy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bill Wells,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
OOIOO,
Excepter,
Index,
Eli Mardock,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Visage,
B.T. Express,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Grass Roots,
The Wake,
Camberwell Now,
Mr. Review,
R.M.O.,
The Vogues,
Underground Resistance,
Yazoo,
The Fall,
Mandrill,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Monks,
The Smiths,
Curtis Mayfield,
Khruangbin,
Lucky Dragons,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.