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 Belgium and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Busters to the rock 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gerry Rafferty,
Symarip,
X-101,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ice-T,
The Move,
Letta Mbulu,
Wasted Youth,
Visage,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Roger Hodgson,
Pharoah Sanders,
T.S.O.L.,
Sonic Youth,
World's Most,
Todd Terry,
Eric B and Rakim,
Adolescents,
Cheater Slicks,
Malaria!,
Yellowson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Big Daddy Kane,
Oblivians,
The Fuzztones,
Banda Bassotti,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Mighty Diamonds,
David McCallum,
Johnny Clarke,
Nico,
Bush Tetras,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ludus,
Inner City,
Gang of Four,
Lungfish,
Second Layer,
Derrick Morgan,
Bob Dylan,
The Seeds,
Hot Snakes,
Charles Mingus,
The Alarm Clocks,
Basic Channel,
Bill Near,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Babytalk,
Rekid,
Easy Going,
Black Sheep,
Jawbox,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Gun Club,
Panda Bear,
The Beau Brummels,
The Last Poets,
Deepchord,
The Smoke,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.