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 Montenegro and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Glambeats Corp. 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Oneida,
Cymande,
Hoover,
Ash Ra Tempel,
T.S.O.L.,
Mo-Dettes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Heaven 17,
Andrew Hill,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Associates,
Sight & Sound,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Busters,
Agitation Free,
Carl Craig,
Neu!,
Scrapy,
Janne Schatter,
Interpol,
Panda Bear,
Wire,
Supertramp,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mantronix,
Gang Green,
Tommy Roe,
Gichy Dan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scan 7,
Derrick Morgan,
Second Layer,
Cheater Slicks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Intrusion,
Black Pus,
Marmalade,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Moon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Stooges,
The Cure,
The Gap Band,
the Germs,
Infiniti,
Average White Band,
a-ha,
Joy Division,
The Gladiators,
Maurizio,
Howard Jones,
Johnny Osbourne,
Swans,
Pantaleimon,
Steve Hackett,
Drive Like Jehu,
The New Christs,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.